


heavy is the head that wears the crown

by killingxrangers



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Andromeda is just here for a good time not a long time, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, Femslash, POV Hermione Granger, Slow Burn, Slytherin Hermione Granger, Time Travel, bellatrix just needs a hug, mentions of abuse, narcissa is a bitch but I love her, young!bellatrix
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:54:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 148,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23677975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingxrangers/pseuds/killingxrangers
Summary: Hermione Granger is chosen for a very important mission that very well may turn the tide in their losing war; Go thirty years back in time to when Bellatrix Black was a student at Hogwarts school, and do whatever it takes to convince the most dangerous witch to not follow the Dark Lord. Hermione will be tested in ways she never could have imagined, but with so many lives resting on her shoulder failure is not an option. She must do whatever it takes to not only prevent Bellatrix from following Voldemort, but also to take the Order's side.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Comments: 425
Kudos: 1571
Collections: Time Travel Bellamione





	1. I

"I fear we will not walk away from this war victorious, Miss Granger." Hermione could imagine none more suited to take up the mantle of Headmistress than Minerva McGonagall, but she wagered it would take some time to become accustomed to seeing her former professor sit behind Dumbledore's desk, and not the headmaster who had led this school for longer than Hermione had been alive. McGonagall looked haggard, an appearance Hermione herself most likely mimicked. None of them had slept well, if at all, the night before. It would be only a matter of hours before Voldemort's army was upon the school, and they both knew many of the people they've come to consider friends will not walk off of that battlefield.

McGonagall had requested Hermione come to the headmistress's office quickly and alone, and Hermione had not the time to question it. Harry and Ron were both scouring the castle for any last possible clues of where the remaining Horcruxes might be, and Hermione should be with them, not here listening to what had to be an admittance of defeat. She never would have imagined the day would come when the proud woman before her went down without a fight, and she refused to consider today could be that time. There must be something up her sleeve. "Harry will find the other Horcruxes, Professor McGonagall. We just need to hold the Death Eaters off for a little longer and-"

"The Death Eaters will be at our gates within hours." McGonagall looked around the office, still cluttered with objects Dumbledore had spent his life gathering. In another lifetime, the disorganization would have drove Hermione mad, but now she looked upon the room in fondness for a heartbeat of a moment before her attention was once again locked on her professor. McGonagall stood so suddenly and swiftly it surprised Hermione, though she said nothing as she continued to watch the professor walk the length of one of the many bookshelves, not stopping until she reached a section made up entirely of unmarked boxes. It was the third box on the middle shelf that was plucked into wrinkled but steady hands, and a moment later Hermione was once again sitting across from McGonagall as she reclaimed her seat, the box now before them on the desk.

It was a rather nondescript box, mahogany wood making up the medium sized square. From where Hermione was sitting, there did not seem to be any indent where a lid would slide from, though she doubted whatever was in there would be in such a mundane box. A spell would most likely be required to reveal whatever object it housed.

McGonagall did not acknowledge the wooden box as she stared at Hermione, her head cocked to the side in a way that meant she was deep in thought. Luckily, Hermione did not have to wait too long before her professor said, "Miss Granger, did you ever take a moment to understand why Sirius Black grew into the man he was?"

"I-" Well, this was not quite what she had been expecting. Sirius had not been mentioned much in recent months, all of them much too busy on accomplishing the multitude of tasks at hand to mourn a lost loved one. If they did that for everyone who fell during these battles, they would have no time for anything else. "No," she answered a moment later, the hesitancy and confusion clear in her voice. A dead man, no matter how important he was to Harry and the others, was not something Hermione could waste time contemplating. But she did add, through the pang in her chest at the memories of Harry's love and excitement over his godfather, "He was a good man."

McGonagall nodded her head in silent confirmation, keeping quiet for a minute to take a sip from her tea. Hermione forced herself to do the same, her brain desperate for some kind of explanation to why Sirius Black needed to be mentioned here and now, when their focus needed to be on keeping those still living alive, and not distracted by those lost to them.

Dumbledore had been a good headmaster, the best, if anyone asked Harry, but he did have a habit of refusing to divulge all prominent pieces of information at once. McGonagall, luckily for Hermione, did not share her predecessor's habits, and did finally say, "Sirius was a member of the Noble House of Black, you are aware. A family that is vehemently anti-muggle, blinded by ideologies that only someone of their status is deserving of magic."

"What does this have to do with-"

The woman before her would not be persuaded to just spit it out, that much was obvious as Hermione resigned herself to listening to the entire story before McGonagall made her point. "Sirius was a Black, like Bellatrix and Narcissa, and was raised among a vicious sort of people his entire childhood. And yet he did not grow up to become a Death Eater like other members of his family. Would you venture a guess as to why?"

"He was sorted into Gyffindor, Professor, his heart was true and brave even if he didn't know it at eleven. He understood his parents beliefs were not right and-" even as she said the words, something in her mind snagged at her that she was wrong, that there was a piece of this puzzle she was still missing.

"What else, Miss Granger?" The tea cup in the professor's hand was set back on the small plate as McGonagall waved her hand in a 'continue, please' motion.

Stories about Harry's father flew through Hermione's mind as she took a moment to truly think about what the woman was saying. Harry had regaled Ron and Hermione with bits and pieces of what he had gathered about his father, about the whole group of boys who used to run through the castle and cause chaos nearly similar to how they did now. And then it clicked, and Hermione found herself smiling at figuring out the solution. "Sirius Black had James Potter, and Remus and Peter. He had friends who supported him, who loved him and showed him that what he had been taught was wrong."

"Andromeda Tonks, was in much the same position. She found love and sanctuary in Ted Tonks, and turned her back on the pure-blooded ways as well."

"What does this have to do with the war, professor?" Hermione had no time for a history lesson, as vital as she may have found it in any other situation. She should be with Ron, chasing down a horocrux or making sure the other students were prepared for the onslaught of the Death Eaters.

"An unfortunate fact, but you know as well as I do that Voldemort is a stronger wizard than you or I. He will use spells that none of us would dare utter, even in times such as these. His use of dark magic and his skills as a duelist make him dangerous, but his attention will be focused on Harry Potter. He is not the one we need to watch out for."

Hermione didn't feel the need to point out that the hundreds of dark witches and wizards headed their way were worth watching out for.

McGonagall continued on her own, and said, "Bellatrix Lestrange is going to be the most dangerous person on this battle field tonight, Voldemort aside."

The markings on her arm, still somewhat raw from the torture she had received, ached at the mention of the witch's name. Yes, Bellatrix was a formidable opponent, her undeniable skills amplified by her psychotic and unpredictable nature. During the hours of planning their defense, they'd all debated the various positions the woman could take up, though none of them could be sure if she would remain by her Dark Lord's side when he faced Harry, or led her master's armies to the front gates, always his faithful lieutenant.

"Many of us will not walk off this battlefield tonight, thanks to that deranged woman."

"Where is the connection to Sirius or Andromeda Tonks, professor? It is too late for Bellatrix to find any chance at friendship or.. or love, that is absolutely preposterous. Not to mention-"

"The time for Bellatrix Lestrange to make friends is long lost, you are correct indeed." There was silence once more as the two looked to one another, Hermione confused while McGonagall had a look as if she chewed glass. There was something she had not said yet, had wanted to hold off on until there were no better options. Clearly, that time was now, and so she said, "The time is gone, but perhaps we could get it back."

Professor McGonagall finally placed the object from the box onto the desk, in plain view of Hermione.

A Time Turner.

A sickly feeling was beginning to settle itself in Hermione's stomach as all of the pieces finally started to reveal themselves and slide together. It was an eerily familiar experience as Hermione's third year, when McGonagall had pulled her into her office then as well, and began a short praise about the young student's capabilities. 'The brightest witch of your age' never sounded so good as when it came from her professor's mouth just moments before she showed Hermione a Time Turner for the first time. She'd read about them in books, of course, but reading and seeing were two very different things.

McGonagall hadn't needed to explain the importance and dangers of using such a piece of magic, and thirteen year old Hermione had been so enthralled with being trusted to use it responsibly, not to mention the thought of taking more classes!

"I thought it was destroyed," she finally said, not moving to take the golden necklace out of the cushioned box it was centered in. She wasn't sure if it was the same one she had used years prior, or if McGonagall had somehow managed to come across another one. She would have been thrilled at the sight of it again, but it was only a moment later before understanding slid into Hermione's mind, as did the unsaid job McGonagall was entrusting her to do.

Reading that very same understanding, the professor continued with, "As always, I am asking too much of you, Miss Granger. But there is no other witch or wizard more capable of this mission than yourself. I know the history the two of you now share, the pain and suffering she has caused you," a gentle look at Hermione's arm at that, before she continued. "I taught Bellatrix while she was a student here at Hogwarts, and I do not belief that she was beyond redemption at that age. A bit misguided, and too enthralled with impressing her father, but still just a seventeen year old girl who needed someone other than her sisters to care for her."

"Professor, I don't-" What did she say here? As far as barely thought of plans went, and Hermione unfortunately was known for quite a few herself, this was terrible. There was no guarantee a Time Turner could even go nearly thirty years in the past, nor a guarantee Hermione could be safely brought back to the correct time, lest she wait and age thirty years in the past before coming back.

"It is far fetched, I am aware, and little more than a fool's hope, but at this point, is that not all we are running on anyway? Miss Granger, forgive me for saying this, but you know as well as I that our students, skilled as they may be, will be of little defense against such skilled Death Eaters, who have had years to hound their skills." McGonagall did not look pleased at the admission, and Hermione could begin to see the years of stressing taking their toll on the older woman. "Consider this- if you are able to not only prevent Bellatrix from joining the Death Eaters after she graduates Hogwarts, you will save your friend Mr. Longbottom's parents, as well as who knows how many other lives. Not to mention, perhaps if Bellatrix Black does not join the Death Eaters, she very well could join the Order. And you and I are both aware of what influence such a powerful witch could have."

"Professor, what you're asking me to do is-"

"As I have said, well beyond what any person your age should ever be expected to do. For that I am terribly sorry, and no matter the outcome of this war, the means we used will never justify the end, not in my mind. The Wizarding World cannot begin to thank the three of you enough, but we are not done asking the impossible of you quite yet." She frowned, and Hermione could tell that while she believed this was their last hope at making a difference, it was not a plan she wholly agreed with, whether it be her own or not. "Take an hour or so to think on it. I would not rush you otherwise, but we are in a time sensitive matter."

With that, Professor McGonagall dismissed Hermione from the Headmistress' office, the only sound that of the heavy door closing behind her as she left.

* * *

Hogwarts was in chaos, older students and staff alike running to and fro in preparation for the oncoming assault. The castle was not impenetrable, Draco and the other Death Eaters have proven as much, and before long their army would swarm the school. Unlike the others bustling around her, Hermione walked as if she were in a trance, her mind else, only one goal in mind right now.

Find Ron and Harry.

She needed to tell them, needed to explain the hazardous plan McGonagall was entrusting her to complete. And tell them, no matter how much they pleaded her not to, that she was going to do it. The professor had given her an hour to think about it, but she knew as soon as she stepped away from the gargoyle at the bottom of the stairs that she would agree to it.

It was a shot in the dark, the last ditch effort that put all of their previous extreme and thoughtless plans to shame, but she was going to do. Bellatrix Black was a murderer, a psychopath and a vile excuse for a human, and if Hermione had even the tiniest shot to change that, to save dozens if not hundreds of lives, who was she to refuse?

Hermione stopped a fellow Seventh year from Ravenclaw to ask him if he'd seen either boy in question, to which he shook his head and ran in a different direction. The next three people she stopped, two more students and a professor, were much the same. Panic started settling in her stomach at the thought of not being able to say goodbye to the two people who mattered most to her, even if rationally she knew that were the spell to go how it was intended, she'd be back to the same moment she left.

Except there was no guarantee with anything when it came to this plan. No books Hermione had ever read hinted at the possibility of a thirty year time travel, not to mention the fact that she was unaware the Time Turner could even go back so far. During her Third year she'd used it an hour or two at a time, and then three to save Buckbeak and Sirius, but that was all.

McGonagall wouldn't have suggested it if she didn't think it would work, the more logical part of Hermione's brain reminded her. No matter how slim, there must be a real possibility it would work. It had to. But if it didn't... she couldn't leave without telling Ron and Harry goodbye, and that she loved them, and so many other things that had gone unsaid between the three of them for too long now.

The giant clock tower chimed its loud tune, and she spun around, her eyes widening at the fact that she had wasted nearly fifty minutes wandering through the castle grounds now. She had no time, none at all, to tell the boys she loved them one more time. It wouldn't matter, she told herself, over and over again as she walked to the transfiguration classroom. It seemed fitting, somehow, to this in the same room she had first been taught by Professor McGonagall. The classrooms were all abandoned anyway, with no chance of someone interrupting them. For whatever her reasoning, McGonagall did not want others to know what was going to happen, save for had Hermione had the opportunity to tell Ron and Harry.

The Order did not know about this last ditched plan, nor did any of the Weasleys, or any of other professors. This is a secret that would stay between Hermione and Professor McGonagall whether she failed or succeeded.

"Miss Granger, you came." The professor's voice held an audible tone of surprise once Hermione stepped through the double doors of the spacious room. The transfiguration room had always been a more straightforward room, nothing like Divination, and much less crowded with objects like Defense Against the Dark Arts had. Just a few rows of tables now in disarray, and McGonagall stood at the head of the room as she had for so many years, her desk now flipped on its side, any papers or supplies long since discarded to the floor or somewhere else.

"Like you said, professor, it's our only chance of survival." Hermione sucked in a deep breath, her heart thumping and her hands shaking as she came to a stop only a few feet before McGonagall. "What happens now? How can we make the Time Turner go so far back?"

"We are going to use an enhancement spell, as well as a potion," McGonagall said as she handed Hermione the necklace, who hesitated only a moment before she slipped it over her head. The chain hung low against her once more, and she waited for further instruction. "If I am correct, the spell should increase the Time Turner's ability to replay time to a much further extent. I should warn you, Miss Granger, I have no knowledge of this ever have been completed before. For all we know, it could do nothing."

Hermione nodded her understanding as she took one moment to close her eyes, just for a second of peace. When she opened them again, her nerves had resolved themselves to steel, and she nodded once more to her professor as she said, "Tell... tell them I love them, so much." She knew it didn't work that way, that when she did come back, no time at all would pass, but she needed to say the words out loud, and McGonagall did not contradict her as she agreed. "Okay, I'm ready, professor."

McGonagall gave her a sad smile, her face almost disappointed, as if a part of her had hoped "You have always been such a brave child, Hermione." And then she handed Hermione a small glass vial, which she popped the topper off and swallowed immediately, trying not to gag. "I've been told that particular brew has an earthy taste to it." She wasn't wrong, the liquid was thick, and coated her throat, and overall tasted like wet grass. She might have laughed at the ridiculousness of it had McGonagall not began the spell, and so she forced her shaking fingers to begin twisting the dial backwards.

* * *

Going back this far in time did not feel the same as it had before. Hermione was reminded somewhat of apparition as her body twisted upon itself over and over again, but worse somehow. She felt too stretched at one point, but then much too squished together at another. The scenes before her were not the same either. Gone were the other people at Hogwarts moving backwards as she went through time, no sign of any life in fact. It was as if she moved too quickly to see anything. It was all a molted grey blur around her.

Just when Hermione thought she'd either vomit or pass out, everything came stumbling to a halt much too suddenly, and she dropped to the ground. Her body felt as if she'd drank one too many firewhiskeys and then jumped from the top of the Astronomy tower for the fun of it.

It took a moment for the sensation to disappear, but once she was able to get her bearings Hermione looked around and, unsurprisingly, found herself in the transfiguration room once more. There was no telling this scene a part from the very first time she walked through these doors as a First year, everything in its prim and proper place, though empty of any other living soul. In fact, had Hermione not left a thoroughly ravaged classroom, she would have guessed the spell and potion had not worked at all. The cleanliness of the room was proof enough that the spell worked, but now it came down to did it take her back to 1969?

Her next steps were clear- she needed Dumbledore.

No matter how much it would hurt to see the man alive and well in whatever time she was in, he needed to be her first destination. Nothing went on in this castle that he didn't know about, and it would be impossible for Hermione to spend such an undetermined amount of time here without him knowing about it. So, she squared her shoulders and began the familiar walk to the headmaster's office, her head on a swivel as she went in an attempt to prepare herself for running into someone else first.

The halls were thankfully clear as well, meaning it was either meal time or curfew, and given how even during meals students still milled about, Hermione figured it was the latter. That made her job somewhat easier, however now she needed to avoid Prefects, as they certainly would ask too many questions that she did not quite have the answers too just yet.

But someone must be looking out for her, because for all the minutes it took to reach the gargoyle guarding the office, she did not cross another person. That put an idea of worry into her head, because what if she was sent when Hogwarts was closed for break? There was no way to predict what day or time or anything she could have ended up in.

She refused to panic as she reached the gargoyle and-

And nothing.

She had no clue what the password could be. It changed so often, usually to some type of sweets, but there were an endless amount of possibilities and-

Hermione had just jerked her hand through her thick hair, and was very close to stomping her foot like a petulant child, when a voice she knew very well said from behind her, "Would you like to come up for a cup of tea? It seems there is a story you have for me."

It took everything she had to not seem shocked as she spun around and locked eyes with Professor Albus Dumbledore. He looked so alike to his future self that she nearly doubted the spell worked at all, save for the fact that he was still alive. Though she supposed that for a man as old as Dumbledore, thirty years was hardly anything. His hair was still grey, his clothing much the same as before, but even as she took him in she could see subtle differences. Less lines marred his face, and his entire persona seemed much less exhausted. The Dumbledore from her time was by no means weak, but years of fighting dark magic would wear on anyone.

"I have a fresh batch of cauldron cakes," Dumbledore said as the gargoyle slid to the side without any interaction, most likely recognizing its master as Hermione wordlessly followed the man up the stairs. He did not seem surprised or confused at her arrival as he took a seat at his desk and gestured for Hermione to sit across from him. "It isn't often we receive visitors past curfew."

"I'm sorry, sir, but-" she began, and then immediately cut herself off. But what? But she came from the future and was here on urgent business by Professor, now Headmistress, McGonagall to stop an insanely powerful witch from following dark magic in a poor attempt to defeat Voldemort? It sounded crazy to her, and she was the one living it. "My parents were under the impression you received our letters." Words started falling out of her mouth before she could even stop to process what all she was saying, but continued nonetheless. "I'm from-" think. Think, think, think. Just when her pause crept close to being uncomfortable, a half hearted and extraneous plan formed in her head. "Durmstrang, you see, and my parents desperately wanted my transfer to Hogwarts. They'd been in contact with the Ministry, who did approve of this all, and I thought you had been told. My train was delayed and so I only just got in. When no one greeted me at the bridge I started to wander."

It was all so far fetched, much too out there to be believed. She was sure Dumbledore would call her out on any part of it, and she knew there were so many parts he could question, but instead he nodded. A wave of his hand had two cups floating over to them, which he sipped from quietly as he stared at her. After a minute of silence, he sat the cup down and just said, "Ministry paperwork gets misplaced all the time. I was more than aware of your arrival, Miss- forgive me, what name are you going by?"

"Hermione-" another shot in the dark as she said, "Potter. Hermione Potter." She was too relieved to question the wording of Dumbledore's sentence as he just nodded again.

With a smile and a look on his face that Hermione knew meant there was much he wasn't letting on to, he waved an arm in a flourish. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Potter." As promised, the cauldron cakes were fresh, and so Hermione found herself eating on as Dumbledore went about completing whatever paper was required for her to began classes.

She was running on nothing but pure, dumb luck at this point as classes, Dumbledore kindly informed her, had only been on for one week now. Dumb luck indeed.

His silence did give Hermione time to think through what she had just gotten herself into, beginning with the choice of Durmstrang. She knew, should it come down to it, that coming from a school that prided itself on teaching darker magic and accepting on pure-bloods, it would do well to make her interesting when interacting with Bellatrix Black.

Claiming to be a Potter had been just a fast paced decision, one that offered her the best choice of remaining unnoticed. Potter was a pure-blood family, wide spread and frequently claimed enough that it did not permit it to be considered a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and hopefully gave her enough anonymity for what she needed to do. Potter would only become a problem years from now, when James and Lily join the Order of the Phoenix to destroy Dumbledore. But that was years now, and Hermione did not plan on being in this time line for long.

Or so she hoped, given that McGonagall had not been very forthcoming with details on her return.

Regardless, she needed to be a pure blood in this time. That much had been clear to Hermione since she accepted this mission. If Draco was any example to go by, Bellatrix would turn her nose at a mudblood such as herself. No, she could not be Hermione Granger in this year. She needed to be someone else entirely, someone her friends would not recognize, and most likely someone she herself would hate.

It didn't matter, she thought. She would do anything, be anyone, to keep those she loved alive and safe. She'd ruin herself completely, defy every belief she held dear, if it meant gaining Bellatrix's trust and getting her to denounce any Death Eater allegiances.

It was only Dumbledore's voice that broke her from her musings as he said, "I believe you'd do best in Slytherin House, Miss Potter," with that same smile that solidified any thought in Hermione that he knew more about her dealings her. Hermione would swear that if a wizard could be omniscient, then Dumbledore would be so. But he merely gave her a smile and said he'd have the Slytherin Prefect meet her outside the dungeons to give her the password to the common room, and sent her on her way. It was only when Hermione was halfway to her destination did she realize Dumbledore did not offer to have someone show her the way.

* * *

As Dumbledore had said, the Prefect was leaning against the wall, her dark robes impeccable and an obvious sign of her wealth, as were her nice quality, if not slightly scuffed, black shoes. Though Hermione could not see the girl's face, she imagined whatever pure blood mother this girl had would not be pleased at the sight of the shoes, nor would she enjoy how messy the girl's dark hair was.

And then the girl looked up at the sound of Hermione's approach, and she decided at it was definitely dumb luck working on her side recently.

Her Prefect was Andromeda Black.

The Time Turner worked exactly how they hoped. She hadn't been able to ask Dumbledore the year without making herself seem crazy, and so the whole walk from his office to the dungeons she could do little more but worry on if she were in the correct time line or not. Seeing Andromeda was all the confirmation she needed, and one of the many, many weights on her shoulders was lifted.

Though there was thirty years between the girl who stood before her and the woman Hermione would one day view as an ally during the Second War. Looking at the student before her, Hermione could nearly see the woman see the woman she would one day grow up to be. Andromeda's face was not as upturned as Draco's always seemed to be, nor did she hold herself in a manner that automatically screamed 'I'm your better, obey me'. That was a stance Lucius Malfoy was incapable of being without, but one that was noticeably absent in the way Andromeda perked once Hermione was close enough to her.

There was a surprisingly easy smile on the girl's pale face, her eyes just as wide and gentle as when the two first met, and so Andromeda pushed herself off of the wall and walked towards Hermione, her steps light and airy, a girl with little care in the world. "Hello, you must be Hermione." Her tone was as easy as her smile, though it did carried that strong lit of aristocracy that reminded Hermione more of Narcissa Malfoy. "I'm Andromeda Black, Slytherin Prefect."

She'd be a Fifth year now, if Hermione's math was correct- which she knew it to be. Bellatrix was two years Andromeda's senior, so this would be her first time as a Prefect, likely only having received the position weeks ago. It was no surprise Bellatrix had been skipped for the position, and Hermione knew Narcissa would not become one either, though the vicious woman would only be in her Third year in this time.

"Hermione Potter, it's nice to meet you." She stuck her hand out automatically, and did not fight the smile on her face as Andromeda shook it.

"Potter?" Andromeda cocked her head as she said the password to enter the common room, and continued once the passage way revealed itself. "As in Theodore and Charolette Potter? Any relation? Or to their son, James?"

"Distant relatives, I'm sure," Hermione choked out, having been wholly unprepared for Andromeda to mention Harry's father or grandparents. It shouldn't have come as a surprise for the girl to know the Potter's, as they were a wealthy pure-blooded family, though much less involved in the purity beliefs. Clearly the Blacks had some type of cordial relationship with the Potter's, a relation that would end either when James come to marry Lily, or when it was no longer deniable that the Blacks were heavily involved with Voldemort. "Do you know them, personally?"

"More in passing than anything, really. They come to galas occasionally, but for the most part keep to themselves." They're in the common room now, somewhere Hermione had never been, whereas Harry and Ron managed to sneak in once during their Second year, and eagerly described what Ron had called 'their enemy's liar' to her later. Their descriptions did nothing to adequately prepare Hermione for what she saw; the common room was breath taking.

Rationally, she expected nothing less from the house full of wealthy students, but given that it was in the dungeons, she had expected a bit more... murk and mildew. Instead, dark stone walls encased them, full of various notable witches and wizards who once claimed this house. Couches created half circles throughout the space, with low laying tables crowded with candles and discarded books. A tray of food was laid out against one of the walls, half eaten and forgotten by the students, but it was the windows that truly captured Hermione's attention.

Green was the color of Slytherin, and while she would never say the combination of the color with silver was better than Gryffindor's scarlet and gold, she couldn't remember a more beautiful sight than the windows stained an emerald color of the lake above them. There was no reason for the lake to have any sort of light in it, given the late time of night, but that did not stop the soft green beams of light from shining gently on the floor.

"Wow," she finally breathed out, turning in a circle to take everything in. The room was thankfully empty, however it would only be a few hours until students gathered once more and she'd be confronted with the hundreds of students in the house.

"Better than Durmstrang?" Andromeda teased, already making her way towards one of the many hallways leading from the main room. "Seventh years dorms are this way, and- oh! You'll be with my sister!" She laughed, the sound light and pleasant as she spun to stare at Hermione, and if she noted the widened gaze and tensed demeanor she made no comment. "Her name is Bellatrix, good luck with her. She definitely does not make my job as Prefect easy."

Say something, say something, Hermione berated herself, feeling the atmosphere slip from easygoing to uncomfortable with each passing second of her silence. At one point during the way Andromeda did turn to make sure Hermione continued to keep up, and she gaze what definitely had to be a pained grimace in return. Say something, idiot! "It must be nice... going to school with a sibling? Even if she causes problems?"

Andromeda didn't turn around, but from the soft candle light in the halls Hermione could see her shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. "Like I said, Bella is, well... you'll see what I mean when you meet her. I have a younger sister as well, Narcissa, but she's a third year and loathes anything that might face her disciplinary action." At the phrase, she did finally turn around, a grin on her lips that conveyed that while she may be a Prefect, the idea of disciplinary action did not scare her nearly as much as her younger sister.

It was odd, Hermione thought, staring at the girl before her and trying to connect her to the woman she would grow into. Hermione never thought Andromeda would be one to cause any sort of problems, but then considered she would never have guessed herself to do half of the things her, Ron, and Harry had gotten themselves into during their time at school. There was definitely more than meets the eye about the middle Black daughter, and Hermione did want to know her.

It would be easy to befriend Andromeda, she realized, something warm and welcoming about the girl's who disposition that would not make friendship a challenge. Perhaps she could use that to her advantage, as Bellatrix surely had to be around her sister often enough. That could be her way in, a chance to get to know Bellatrix and shift her viewpoints. Andromeda had done it with Ted, Sirius had done it with James. Hermione can do much the same.

"Here you go!" They came to a stop in front of a heavy wooden door, closed to keep the candle lights out, and the door opened on silent hinges with a wave of Andromeda's wand. "The last bed on the left is open, though I'd advise you to hold off on putting your belongings away until the morning. You wouldn't want to wake anyone up. It's the weekend tomorrow, so you'll have plenty of time." She took a step back, her intentions of returning to her own bed clear, but stopped once more to say, "I think you're really going to like it here, Hermione. Hogwarts is the best place to be." Then she waved goodnight, a sincere offer to give her a tour of the school in the morning and a promise to be there if she needed anything.

* * *

Sleep eluded Hermione that night, her mind much too restless to settle long enough to fall asleep, and so the night was spent tossing and turning as she figured out her next steps. More and more light entered the room as it reached dawn, with each passing hour bringing her closer and closer to meeting Bellatrix.

Finally, other girls started to stir, and Hermione could delay the inevitable no longer, so she moved from her bed as well to begin the day. A very small part of this felt like her very first day of Hogwarts all over again, little more than an eleven year old girl in an unknown predicament, surrounded by complete strangers. The wiser part told her that was completely bonkers, that she knew every single inch of Hogwarts, and she had more important things to worry about than the confused and judgment glances the few girls that were awake gave her as they walked by.

It didn't take long for the girls to approach her, asking her all sorts of questions from her name to her status to her previous enrollments, which she answered much the same as she did with Andromeda last night. One girl did ask why she waited a week to transfer over, as well as why she'd come so late at night, to which she hastily supplied some excuse about parents wanting her closer and a delayed train. Some of the girls were still asleep, and similar to her time at Hogwarts she assumed they'd sleep through breakfast in the Great Hall and simply snack until lunch. Ron had done it more times than he could count, even though he'd spent the rest of the day grumpy and irritable for missing lunch, and Harry and herself were known to oversleep occasionally if they had been up particularly late the night before.

She assumed one of the lumps in the bed was Bellatrix, as none of the girls that approached her before losing interest was the one she sought. So she dressed in Slytherin attire, her brain screaming that the robe and tie all wrong, that it should be scarlet, not emerald, against her skin, but she dressed all the same and left the dorm. Dumbledore must have had them sent up for her, or possibly Andromeda, though she couldn't be sure and did not want to question it.

The witch in mind was waiting for her in the hall, looking more or less still asleep but perfectly put together regardless, and she smiled upon seeing Hermione step from the room. Except it was not to Andromeda Hermione looked, as the girl was not alone.

No, that was very clearly Narcissa at her side, her clothing and robe as equally exquisite quality, her shoes scuff free unlike her sister and her hair shiny and flat as it fell down her back, not a single strand out of place. Andromeda made quick introductions, completely ignoring the disinterested look Narcissa kept on her face as the three of them walked back through the hall. Bellatrix oversleeping must be nothing new then, if they did not bother to wait for her nor attempt to wake her up.

Andromeda kept up most of the conversation as the three of them trekked to breakfast, Hermione lost in thought and Narcissa more or less glaring at her in the least subtle way. "Ignore her," Andromeda laughed at one point, when Narcissa was distracted for a moment by another Slytherin member. "She's actually quite lovely once you get to know her, I swear."

"I'll take your word for it," Hermione replied in what she hoped was a light manner, knowing from experience that the blonde across from them was not 'quite lovely'. So far, between the two sisters, it seemed very little would change for the youngest Black between now and her marriage to Lucius Malfoy. Save for a slightly more severe look on her face, Narcissa would remain the same judgment pure-blood she obviously was now. "I haven't met your other sister yet," she trailed off, hoping Andromeda would take the bait and talk about Bellatrix.

She did not disappoint. Andromeda laughed once more, something Hermione guessed she did often, and began talking again. "Bella's sleep schedule is horrendous. I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't meet her until this afternoon. If she doesn't have lessons or Quidditch then she's usually-"

"She plays Quidditch?" Hermione blurted out, taken very much by surprise at the revelation. Nothing about the psychotic woman she had come to, albeit hardly, know screamed she would be a fan of the sport. It must be something she either lost interest in with time, or gave up to serve her master.

Andromeda nodded rapidly as she gave Hermione a blinding smile. She must have a close relationship with her older sister, as it was clearly a look of pride on her face as she discussed Bellatrix's skills. "She's bloody good at it too! Trust me, when you meet her, it'll seem very out of her character, but she does love it!"

"What position does she play? Durmstrag has quite a few skilled players as well." Hermione let a bit of competition slip into her tone, thinking of Viktor Krum and his skills on the pitch. Whether that truly reflected all of the school's players, or just the one student, Hermione couldn't say.

"She's a Chaser, pretty aggressive one too. Steve- you'll meet him later, I'm sure- he's the Capitan, and he's forever warning her to take it easy."

"If you're discussing Bella, there is nothing in her nature that will ever permit her to be gentle." Narcissa returned to them at some point, her voice as flat as it had been when she welcomed Hermione, but the shake of her head was an affectionate gesture. Yes, Hermione thought once more, the sister have to be close.

It was almost a sad thought that in only a few short years Andromeda would be renounced from the Black line for falling in love with a muggle-born student. She would go on to have a daughter that the other two would never know, save for hearing whispers of during the War.

"She has practice this afternoon, sometimes we go and watch," Andromeda explained as they all sat down at the Slytherin table. Hermione hoped her gaze didn't appear too longing as she stared at the Gryffindor table beside them. It was only a few years ago she would have found herself there, gleefully eating with Harry and Ron, laughing as the latter was relentlessly teased by his brothers, before they dropped out and the mood at Hogwarts became much, much more somber.

"Not today," Narcissa said firmly, her entire attention locked on her older sister, who scrunched her brow in confusion. "Father is going to be here today, and Bellatrix does not need any sort of distractions. We are not going to practice."

Interesting, so very interesting. Narcissa was the youngest of the family, and yet she acted as if she were in control. Once again, it was all too easy to see the woman she will one day become. The matriarch of the Malfoy family, the only remaining member of the Black family to save face in front of so much pure-blooded judgment. Andromeda would disgrace herself, and Bellatrix would lose her sanity in her fanatic devotion to her Lord. Only Narcissa would remain unaffected, or as unaffected as one could be with her husband and son Death Eaters.

And the part about their father caught Hermione's attention as well, a fact that made Andromeda scowl into her eggs and bacon. Their father was Cygnus, a man renown for his rather harsh viewpoints on service creatures like the elves, and his refusal to acknowledge muggles as legitimate magic users. Hermione almost felt bad for being thankful he died. And this man was coming to Hogwarts today, assumedly to watch his eldest child practice Quidditch. A fact that, for whatever reason, did not sit well with the middle daughter.

Narcissa seemed indifferent to their father's pending arrival, but Hermione was convinced the other girl's face was incapable of any emotion aside annoyance or outright disgust, so she didn't put much weight to that. Instead, she let the conversation drop as she focused on breakfast, her own thoughts a whirlwind of information she had already gleamed in such a short few hours.

* * *

It would be a stretch to say Hermione had many peaceful days during her time at Hogwarts. It was a rare day indeed that Harry or Ron, or all three of them, were not doing one thing or another they most certainly had no business doing, and Hermione found her missing that as she walked through the library shelves.

Only a handful of other students were there, a few First years scouring the multitude of books for whatever information they lacked, and some older students who used the space as more of a hangout area than for any studying. Not that much studying needed to be done, as it was only the first weekend of the semester, and the professors had yet to get into too complex spell work and potions.

Not that Hermione was here to study any of her classes at the moment. No, her lone goal was to hunt for any sort of texts involved with time travel. There had been none she'd stumbled across during her own time at Hogwarts, but perhaps a professor had moved them in the last thirty years. She might get lucky and discover a text or two that not only explained the ability to travel nearly thirty years back, but also give some insight on how in Merlin's name she'd be able to make it back.

She had just found a book that could hold some information, the papers yellowed and the spine dusty from disuse, and was in the process of flipping through the pages when movement caught her eye. She was set to ignore it, focused on the peculiar passage she read about a man who claimed he traveled years into the future- completely preposterous, Hermione knew, but she wanted to read the paragraph anyway, when she saw who was in her line of sight.

Or rather, saw a blazer that could belong to only one person. Evidently, the man's love for oddly printed jackets and bowties was not a taste he developed later in life, as Horace Slughorn skimmed a section of shelves directly across from Hermione, dressed in an absolutely hideous brown and green blazer and yellow bowtie. There'd be another decade or so of him being Slytherin's Head of House before he retired, all because he is the reason Voldemort knew about Horcruxes. It was his negligence that had Hermione and her friends running all through Europe hunting them down just to have a shot of defeating the Dark Lord.

It wasn't necessarily the man's fault, Hermione understood that, but there was too much he had done that aggravated her, especially that bastardly Slug Club and-

Why hadn't she thought of this sooner? Hermione rushed to stand up, the action pushing her chair roughly against the floor and creating a terrible noise that garnered the professor's attention. He spun quickly as well, visibly surprised to see someone else in the library with him.

"Oh, hello." The smile he gave Hermione was charming, and she despised every second of it as she forced herself to calmly walk around the table and stand before him, the symbol on her cloak plainly visible as Slughorn frowned at it. "I don't think we've met, miss, and that would make me a terrible Head of House." That smile stayed in place as, with one hand he tucked whatever book he sought under his arm, and with the other held it out to give her a polite shake, which she did so with faux enthusiasm. "I'm Professor S-"

"Professor Slughorn, I know. Dumbeldore told me I should speak with you. My name is Hermione Potter." She jerked her hand back and crossed her arms behind her back, her posture straight and head back, a stance she had seen on Draco for years, as well as Narcissa all this morning. "Your skills are renown, Professor. You see, I just transferred from Durmstrang, and it was quite the disappoint to learn Potions isn't taught here to Seventh years."

Slughorn was quite obviously interested in being praised, especially if his name was supposedly being mentioned as far as the rival school. "Durmstrang, you say? What made you transfer here?"

"My parents just moved from Luxembourg to Scotland, and they pressed me to consider transferring here. I had to wait a week at Durmstrang for everything to be finalized, but I just couldn't pass up an opportunity to study at such an illustrious school."

"You seem highly intelligent, Miss Potter, and a pure-blood, I'm assuming? I'm sure that with time, Hogwarts will be the lucky one to have such a promising student." He looked around them, and finding the area they were in thankfully void of any more students, lowered his voice and said, "I can see a lot of potential in you. I'm pleased you've been assigned to the right House then." He frowned down at his watch at that point before giving Hermione once last smile. "I must be going now, but I'll be keeping an eye on you to make sure you hit every expectation such a House and status places on you."

Hermione gave him what she hoped was a subdued smile as she said, "I want nothing more than to impress you, Professor."

With that, Professor Slughorn left the library, and Hermione knew to expect an invitation to one of his upcoming parties soon. Being accepted into the Slugclub was just one more way to get closer to Bellatrix. She had already began to assimilate to her friend group, if just her sisters could be considered that, so she would do well to join a club that prided itself on the same doctrines the Black family so religiously followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first Harry Potter fic ever, and while I've been a fan of the movies and books for a while, I'm only just now getting into the fanfic side of it after reading the Bellamione story TGCWW. I've read it far too many times already, and it inspired me to write my own story about Hermione and Bellatrix, so here's hoping you guys enjoy it. I've reread this chapter a couple times now but there's bound to be mistakes so forgive me for that but don't hesitate to point any errors or inconsistencies out so I can fix them! Thanks so much!


	2. II

Whether it be good or bad luck that Hermione had yet to run into the one person she truly needed to see, she was yet to decide. She didn't see Andromeda for the rest of the afternoon, nor did she cross paths with the youngest sibling. Most likely the three of them were busy with whatever purpose their father had for being here today, be that watching Bellatrix practice- it had to be more than that, as Hermione couldn't picture the man being the type of parent to show a true interest in his child's extracurriculars- or something else, but whatever it was kept all three of them away from the Slytherin common room well through the afternoon and dinner. Hermione would have found herself eating alone had it not been for two of the girls who spoke to her this morning, two blonde girls in her year that continued to ask questions about Durmstrang and whether or not the boys were as attractive as rumor claimed them to be.

She once again thought of Viktor, and found herself laughing as she said yes, as well as praising their dancing and Quidditch skills. One of the girls was brave enough to ask if Hermione could divulge the location of the school, to which she could only shake her head and claim the land was unplottable. Viktor, as well as the other students who visited Hogwarts that year, were spelled to keep the location to themselves, unable to even speak if it was thought they would break such a tightly kept secret. The girls accepted the response and moved on to topics they considered much more interesting- deciding the most attractive Slytherin boys, listing the best and worst professors, and complaining about their classes.

It all felt so terribly mundane, such a simple pleasure to have the worst thing happen to you be your crush rejecting you, or having to take a tough professor this semester. The topics went on well through dinner, and the two girls- who Hermione did learn were named Amelia and Lilith- walked with Hermione back to the common room, all of them well engrossed by the conversation. It was as enjoyable as it was simple, and Hermione suddenly longed to have girl friends during her time in school. Ginny would always remain her best friend, but she wasn't there in the beginning, and the two of them had never been much for talking about boys, considering the only ones they knew all too well were Ginny's brother or Harry, and neither provided too much gossip. Having these sort of talks was a nice change of pace for her, and she enjoyed it well enough to even continue in their dorm, all three girls crowded on Lilith's bed.

Hermione was so distracted by the story Amelia was telling- about the disaster that her first kiss turned out to be two summers ago- that she completely missed the door to the dorm room opening and a new arrival stalking in. It wasn't until Amelia stopped talking and snapped her eyes to the figure did Hermione take a look. And immediately lost all breath in her at the sight.

The figure was turned away, focused on digging through her trunk at the end of her bed that only her back was visible to Hermione, but there was no doubt that the girl in question was Bellatrix Black. If there was any thought that Bellatrix's wild and untamable hair was due to her stay for more than a dozen year in Azkaban, it was immediately disproven in this instant. Her hair was little more than a thick, dark mane, more disordered than Andromeda's, and most of it pushed over to one side of her head. The girl was dressed in her Quidditch outfit still, green and black padded clothing that outline a very lithe figure, and Hermione was too captivated to look away.

Eventually, Bellatrix found whatever object she desired, and turned and stalked back to the door, never paying any of the other room's occupants a single glance. Either she was in a terrible mood, or it was a common occurrence. Given what Hermione knew about the woman, she couldn't say for sure that it wasn't the latter.

"Have you met her yet?" Lilith said once they knew for sure the topic of their conversation was out of ear shot. Both of them turned to eagerly look at Hermione, excited for the shot of gossip Hermione might not yet be aware of. "We saw you had breakfast with Andromeda and Narcissa, so it's surprising you haven't met their sister yet. That's Bellatrix Black."

"She's insane and-" Amelia began, looking back to the door quickly as if she feared Bellatrix would come marching back into the room just to smite them all. "She's always getting into trouble. She does more detention in the Forbidden Forest than our entire year combined, the crazy welch. Not to mention how many house points she always cost us."

"But," Lilith was quick to add, "She does get us a lot of house points too, way more than she loses, I'll tell you. I overheard some of our professor's talking about her last year; she's top of our class, and they said even without such a famed last name her skills alone would get her any job she wanted. Of course, not that that matters, given that she is the Black heir."

Lilith is right that none of that will matter, but not for the reasons she thinks, Hermione thought bitterly. So much supposed talent, and Bellatrix will throw it all away in such a short time, all for one man who wanted to do so many evil in their world. How much of an impact would having such a powerful witch on their side do? How many lives would be spared if Hermione succeeded in her mission? Well more than enough to make this a job that could not fail. No matter what, Hermione will change the dark witch's stance.

Amelia and Lilith quickly lost interest in discussing Bellatrix, and instead decided they were much more interested in hearing about Hermione's love life back in Durmstrang. There wasn't much to tell, save for her stories about Viktor, which the girls did make fun of her for doing so little. The blush on Hermione's cheeks was not faked, nor did she fake the many laughs as the three of them got ready for bed. Not once while they were together did Bellatrix return to the room.

Hermione fell asleep surprisingly easy that night, pleased to have made friends with two people who had nothing to do with her job involving Bellatrix. Andromeda was a vital part of this whole plan, and a part of Hermione did feel as if she were using the girl in an attempt to get closer to her sister, and while that wasn't not accurate, it wasn't the complete truth either. Andromeda was sweet, and friendly, and a seemingly all around nice person despite her placement in Slytherin, and Hermione valued the friendship the girl so readily offered her anyway.

The next morning, when she woke up and dressed herself for the day, Andromeda was already waiting for her in the hall once more, and Hermione refused to think anymore that she was using the girl. Their friendship, while very new, was real.

"Hey! Sorry for ditching you for lunch and dinner yesterday. I hope you found some housemates to befriend?" Andromeda gave a little wave that Hermione repeated, and noticed Narcissa was absent today, not that Hermione would complain about that. "Our father was with us all yesterday after Bella's practice, so we didn't return back to the castle until late."

"No worries, I met Lilith and Amelia during dinner, they kept me occupied most of the night."

Andromeda chuckled at that as they reached the common room, both of them in no rush to reach the Great Hall and so they sat down on one of the many couches, facing one another. "They'll do that. They're great, but they talk a lot. Bella hates them. Well- to be fair to them, she hates most of the students here."

"I've heard a lot about your sister." Hermione decided to broach the subject this way, and while it wasn't quite true that she heard a lot about Bellatrix yesterday, she did need to know more. Mainly if whatever finally pushed her to becoming a Death Eater happened already, or if Hermione had time to prevent it. She pleaded it wasn't the former, and that McGonagall's hunch about just needing the proper support held true.

"I can't imagine it was many good things." Despite the easy way Andromeda said it, Hermione could tell she did not agree with the things said about her sister. Yes, definitely, definitely a close pair. It was nearly sad to think that in just a few years Bellatrix would so readily turn her back on what was an important relationship to her. "Bella is... Bella, I don't even think words can properly describe her. Like Narcissa, she has a tough exterior, and it takes a lot for someone to be able to see the real her, but I promise, if someone is lucky enough to see that... she's truly an amazing person."

Hermione had just moved to grab one of the mugs of water and two cups on the side when a voice, appearing as if out of no where, said, "Are you lamenting my failures as father likes to do, dear sister?" It took everything in Hermione not to drop the glass chalice as her heart beat too quickly.

There was not a person in their world who would not be able to identify Bellatrix Black by that unique voice alone. Though it shifted slightly with age, a slightly higher pitched tone that danced on the edge of mad screeching, this Bellatrix had a more raspy tone, lower and calmer as Hermione slowly turned to take the other girl in.

As adults, people still claimed Andromeda looked eerily similar to her older sister, enough so that upon their first meeting, Harry believed her to be the Death Eater. Hermione never disagreed, save for the light shade of hair and wider eyes Andromeda had. However, when Andromeda stood up to greet her sister just now, and the two of them stood side by side to look at Hermione, the two were almost indistinguishable.

Andromeda's hair was not quite as light as it would become later in life, and while it could not be considered anywhere near as wild as her sister's, it was still a feat to tell them a part at first glance. But there were nonphysical signs that a thorough observer may pick up, such as their stances. Andromeda was more relaxed, her shoulders slouched in such a way Hermione could already picture Narcissa scowling at, whereas Bellatrix stood straight back, her posture immaculate save for her head, cocked to the side as she appraised Hermione.

And the fact that Bellatrix was absolutely, undeniably, unequivocally, gorgeous. Insanity looked good on no one, of that Bellatrix was no exception, but now, in this time, her dark eyes were clear, her skin unmarred, her teeth straight and white, and her hair free of any graying strands that developed through such stressful conditions as Azkaban. She was dressed in a simple but nonetheless expensive high necked black dress, tight around her chest and waist and flowing when it reached her hips. It revealed pale, toned legs that ended in black heels, and equally muscled arms. Wherever she hid her wand was beyond Hermione, who found it hard to suck in any breath as she continued to stare.

It was only when Andromeda gave a pointed cough did Hermione jerk her gaze away from the oldest Black- who, Hermione noted, did not seem put off by her staring. "Bella, this is the new girl I was telling you about, Hermione Potter. Hermione, this is my sister Bellatrix."

Hermione's voice did not waver only through a strong effort of will as she said hello. It would be hard, she realized only in this moment, to look at the girl before her and not see the woman who pinned to the floor of Malfoy Manor, to not see the woman who tortured her and screeched incoherently for what felt like hours. This Bellatrix and that Bellatrix were one and the same, something the seventeen year old would grow to be. Unless Hermione could intervene, could knock her off of the dangerous path she was to follow.

"Does the new girl speak, or is she incapable of doing anything other than gawking?" So, Bellatrix's vicious tongue was not crafted from her Death Eater future, but something she honed young, and used often, if Andromeda's apologetic face was any indication. The eldest Black turned to face her sister, Hermione utterly forgotten and dismissed behind her. "What have I told you about playing with rabble, Dromeda?"

Hermione huffed, and could not stop herself from saying, "And what part of me is rabble?"

Her friends always did say she was bad at controlling her temper, but this blasted girl reminded her too much of Draco for her to keep her mouth shut.

"Potter, yes? A family on their way to being blood-traitors, if you ask me, baby sister," Bellatrix claimed, not even bothering to look at Hermione as she continued to talk to Andromeda. "Father always said they were raising their son to be weak. Nothing like a proper pure-blood heir should be."

Her body felt disconnect from her mind as she jerked into a standing position, her wand already sliding into her hand, seemingly on its own accord. She barely took in Andromeda's widening eyes or the subtle step backwards she took as her own wand slid out. Bellatrix, however, looked too pleased as she turned to look at Hermione head on, her wand no where to be seen.

"Well, this just got fun," she said with a laugh that sounded much too close to the cackle she would one day become recognized for. Hermione had thought that laugh was born from years in Azkaban breaking her mind, but that was not the case. Only Bellatrix Black would look at a possible duel and laugh, with little movements to defend herself. "Have I offended you, Hermione?"

The way she said her name... the tone she used...

This was a mistake. This was all a horrible, terrible mistake. Her beauty and dress may not be reminiscent of the Death Eater, but that did not mean Hermione didn't look at her and see the woman who pinned her to the floor and tortured her. Did not mean she didn't see Sirius' killer, or Dobby's, or Neville's parents' torturer.

The girl before her was beyond saving, Hermione believed that. McGonagall had sent her on a fool's errand, a mission she was not equipped to handle, nor was it worth the emotional turmoil facing Bellatrix again caused.

"Bella-" Andromeda's firm voice had both girls' attention, though they did not take their eyes off of one another. "If Hermione is related to them, it is only a distant relation. She just transferred from Durmstrang, you prat."

"Is that so?" Bellatrix's head was cocked to the side, her eyes roaming over Hermione's frame, taking her all in. Her sister's insult went ignored as a grin broke over her pale face that had Hermione's heart racing in panic. She had seen that look on a much older face before, and knew it meant nothing good was about to come. "Is it true Durmstrang teaches dark magic?" She gave Hermione no time to confirm or deny before she straightened her body and held her arms out in an undeniable 'give it your best shot' pose. "Give us a demonstration on some spells they've taught you. I won't even move out of the way. It'll be so easy."

Hermione's arm did not waver as she held it level, and Bellatrix's grin only grew, while Andromeda looked even more apprehensive of the situation. She wasn't doing a strong job of being Prefect, for even letting this argument escalate this far broke House rules. It made Hermione wonder if the girl ever crossed her sister, and if she truly would remain uninvolved should any spell come from Hermione's wand.

"You're insane," Hermione finally breathed, her gaze locked in Bellatrix's the entire time. "You're completely insane."

"Says the girl who pulled her wand out for no reason." Bellatrix shrugged, her tone light and unhurried as she let her arms fall down to her side. It did little to help Hermione relax, and still her arm remained firm.

Bellatrix's attack came almost too quickly for Hermione to swipe it away. An orange bolt shot from her wand, the movements of revealing the wand and throwing the soundless hex much faster than Hermione was accustomed to when dueling other students. It was a grave mistake to forget that Bellatrix was a highly skilled witch even during her time at Hogwarts. Her skills are what will one day impress the Dark Lord enough for him to name her his Second, and Hermione, as she dodged a second hex thrown her way, could see why it would be so captivating.

Dueling lessons through classes were nothing like fighting in the real world. That much had become clear very early on for Hermione and the boys as they attempted to hunt down horcruxes on their own. The snatchers and Death Eaters they came across did not pace away, or bow as a sign of respect. No, they shot spell after spell that was meant to main or kill them over and over again.

Bellatrix didn't fight like students in dueling lessons, nor did she fight like the others they had come across. She fought in a way similar to someone dancing, all intentional movements made to look easy and without care as she moved away from Andromeda. Her wand was gripped loosely in her hand, pointed at Hermione once more as it sparked blue. Hermione heard the incantation start and knew if that particular hex hit her, it was going to hurt.

Thankfully, the spell never left the wand, as the tool in question was promptly yanked from Bellatrix's hand by Narcissa, who had a terrifying scowl in place as she glared at her sister. "Assaulting new students is not how you are meant to stay out of detention, Bellatrix." The words were choked out between clenched teeth, her sister's wand tightly gripped in her hand.

Hermione hadn't seen the other girl arrive, or move to interfere in their fight, but based on the unsurprised way Bellatrix raised a single eyebrow at her sister, Hermione guessed the other witch had either seen or heard her move towards them. Narcissa looked between all three of them, and despite being the youngest in the room- just thirteen, Hermione realized with a start- she held the true air of authority here.

"Are all of you mental?" She snapped, tossing Bellatrix's wand carelessly onto the soft couch cushion. The girl made a noise of annoyance at the rough treatment to such a vital part of her, but otherwise refused to show any sort of emotion on her face save that same looking of entitlement. If Hermione were to guess, being scolded by a girl four years younger than her was not an uncommon experience, and something she put little weight to.

Narcissa, knowing that she would get nowhere with her stubborn minded older sister, turned to Hermione.

"You."

"Me?"

"Perhaps if you are going to attack members of your own house, you should return to that brutish Durmstrang school. Hogwarts would certainly be better off with you doing so."

Oh, she was just as vile as her sister. Andromeda was the only one worth saving, and she didn't even need to be changed at all! Bellatrix barked out another high pitched cackle that had Hermione seeing red, and she was fully prepared to send a terrible curse their way, at this point not caring which girl was hit so long as Andromeda reminded unscathed, consequences be damned.

"Leave her alone, Cissy," Andromeda said, seeing the telltale signs of anger on Hermione's face and, after a moment of consideration that resulted in her deeming it fine, walked to stand beside the newest Slytherin member. "Bella antagonized the fight."

"I did nothing except remind her of her place, sister," came Bellatrix's indignant reply.

"That is how you antagonize people," Andromeda said lightly, a small laugh escaping her as she locked arms with Hermione's, whose heart still pumped rapidly at the prospects of a fight. "You sure know how to make friends," she joked as she pulled the older girl away from the common area and towards the exit.

It wasn't until Hermione was away from the tensed atmosphere and into the open hall was she able to breathe freely, and dropped her shoulders as she leaned against the cool stone wall. Andromeda watched her patiently, and the longer she spent being stared at the more embarrassed she became.

She had let her emotions get the best of her, and was truly willing to throw the entire mission into jeopardy for just a chance to hurt the older girl. McGonagall would be so disappointed in her if she knew. Hermione was supposed to be the smart and steady one, not someone who so readily pulled her wand to end petty squabbles, no matter if the other person was as wretched as Bellatrix Black.

"That got intense quickly," Andromeda joked, if only to lighten the otherwise heavy mood.

"I'm- sorry," Hermione mumbled, her cheeks too hot as a blush took over her face. That was not the impression she needed to make on the girl when they hardly knew one another.

Andromeda nodded her acceptance, a soft smile in place as they started walking towards the the stairs that would hopefully take them to the courtyard. In this school, they never could be quite sure. "Don't be. My sister definitely deserved it. And don't take what Narcissa said to heart. She's mean when she's mad."

"Pretty sure she's just mean all the time."

"Nah, that's Bella. But don't worry, she was having fun sparring with you. She wouldn't have seriously hurt you."

"I think the spell she was about to send my way says otherwise, Andromeda." Hermione blinked at the girl next to her. Unfortunately, the fifth year witch didn't have any argument against that, and so they walked the rest of the trip in silence as Hermione reflected on what was surely a grave mistake.

* * *

Monday brought a new set of challenges for Hermione that had nothing to do with Bellatrix and the mission. Classes picked up where they left off last Friday, and so Hermione found herself awake early in the morning for breakfast with Andromeda, during which Bellatrix was once again blissfully absent, even if Narcissa was present the whole time, with her ever present glare of annoyance towards Hermione. Her and Andromeda split up soon after, with Hermione headed to Transfiguration while the other girl walked in the opposite direction. It would be the first time Hermione saw this time's McGonagall, and she couldn't lie to herself that for some odd reason, she was nervous.

It was quite literally impossible for McGonagall to know about her purpose, or it should be, but Hermione was convinced Dumbledore knew something, and if any of the other professors hear had an inkling of what was truly going on with her, it would be McGonagall.

She's also a little bit thankful that this McGonagall had no idea how much trouble she's gotten herself into over the years with Ron and Harry. That wouldn't be a good way to start a class she was already a week behind in.

Once she reached the Transfiguration classroom, Hermione claimed a middle seat at a table of three in the center of the room and began pulling out supplies, hoping it was similar to the courses she'd already had with her favorite professor and therefore wouldn't be too far behind. She'd have to dedicate the next couple of days to catching up on the missed work, as well as reading ahead for future assignments. Even if she was here for one goal, she refused to allow her coursework to suffer for anything, Bellatrix and the goal in mind be damned.

A body slid into the empty seat beside Hermione on her left, drawing her from her thoughts, and she took a look out of the corner of her eye, only to drop her quill in shock.

Rodolphus Lestrange was seated beside her.

Hermione had never seen the man in the flesh, despite him attacking her and her friends the night Sirius was murdered. He had that golden mask on the entire time, and the only reason she even knew he was there was a Ministry member informing Dumbledore, who in turn told all of them of the Death Eaters present. She had only seen photos of him during his sentencing to Azkaban, and then later wanted posters following his escape, and the years had not been kind to him. In her time, he had shaggy hair of a similar length to Sirius', stringy and dirty from years of imprisonment, his beard coarse and untamed, and his body had faired no better. During his sentencing, obvious muscles rippled beneath his clothing, visible even in photos of him, but he had withered away from lack of proper nourishment, much like Bellatrix originally looked after her own escape.

It was because of those facts that it took her a moment to process it really was the same person next to her now. His hair was still long, flowing down nearly to his shoulders in thick dark waves surrounding a clean cut face. Much like the Black family, his school robes were of fine make, clearly new and expensive as he shrugged his robe off, leaving him in just his button down and sweater. The beginnings of those same muscles he will have later in life were showing as he got comfortable in the chair, his attention fixed wholly on Hermione.

He was handsome. He was so very handsome.

Why were the crazy bad guys always attractive?

"I heard we have a new house member," Rodolphus began easily, clearly a boy used to being paid attention to and things going his way. "No one told me you were this beautiful." It was a cheesy line, one that would have had Harry laughing and Ron red. Had Hermione not know the kind of man he would grow up to become, the kind of man she could see lurking just below the surface, she might have fallen for it. "I am Rodolphus Lestrange. You're Heather, correct?"

"Hermione," she couldn't help but correct, saying her name slow and pronounced to make sure he didn't mess it up. "Hermione Potter."

Rodolphus gave her a charming smile, showing off straight and white teeth, his strong jaw flexing with movement as he looked behind Hermione and-

"A blood-traitor, Lestrange, I wouldn't waste my time on such filth."

Great, Hermione thought bitterly. So much for being able to focus on the class and not have to think about Bellatrix. A more painful and apparent thought hit her hard and fast.

She'd be sharing this class with Rodolphus and Bellatrix.

To her utter shock and dismay, Bellatrix took the empty seat to Hermione's right, making her sandwiched between two of Voldemort's most loyal and dangerous Death Eaters. She nearly stood up and changed tables, but she refused to look as if she were running from the girl beside her, refused to let Bellatrix think any part of Hermione feared her.

This was the first time Hermione was seeing Bellatrix since their fight yesterday, and a whole new wave of anger washed over her at the sight, as well as the words Bellatrix had just used. The Potters were not a family to be thrown away simply because they refused to follow such bigoted and old fashioned beliefs.

"A bold accusation to make, Bella." Rodolphus said her name so lightly, his tone so familiar as he spoke to her, Hermione was stunned to discover the two of them were seemingly friends. They would become husband and wife later in life, but for some reason she had never pictured them as childhood friends. A decently close pair, more than likely. "The Potters have never outright supported mudbloods or muggles."

Oh, they were going into dangerous territory right now.

The scar on Hermione's arm, glamoured to be invisible, ached at the mention of the slur. It had been one of the first things she did upon her arrival here, and something she continued to make sure was place frequently throughout the day. Not only would it be nearly impossible to explain the mark's origin, it would out her as being a fraud, and with it any chance of this mission being completed successfully went out the window.

"I told you, Black, I have no connection to Theodore and Charolette Potter," Hermione growled, seeking comfort from the feeling of her wand in her robe pocket. Their last interaction had broken out into a duel, would this one as well, right here in a class? Where was McGonagall? "I'm not a blood-traitor, you demented harpy." Well, Hermione never said she was above petty name calling, and by the sounds of Rodolphus' bark of laughter, he was enjoying the interaction.

Such a big part of her wanted to argue that even if she was a supposed blood-traitor, why was that an issue? It should be an honor, not something viewed as disgraceful.

Bellatrix, however, looked livid at having someone so blatantly refuse to back down to her and argue back. "Listen here, blood-traitor," the girl hissed, moving in close and lowering her voice so only the three of them could hear. Hermione's louder than intended insult had gained a few of the surrounding students' attention, and she felt a blush rise on the back of her neck at the added eyes watching them all. "You are nothing but a pathetic excuse for a human, unfitting of her pure blood status and therefore not worth having any magic at all."

Hermione was not one to back down and show her belly, and despite the memories Bellatrix invoked every time Hermione looked at her, she refused to be the girl crying on the floor of Malfoy Manor ever again. She had just opened her mouth to remind Bellatrix that she was the one who began their duel yesterday and wasn't afraid to have a second, uninterrupted round, when none other than McGonagall entered the room and silenced the class.

The professor, much like everyone else, looked younger. Her hair didn't hold as much grey as Hermione was used to, her skin holding a significantly less amount of wrinkles. Her eyes were just as bright and wise as Hermione knew them to be, and she maintained that same powerful aura around herself that let everyone know she was not a witch to be trifled with.

Hermione missed her more than she had previously thought. McGonagall took a moment to introduce herself to the next student, seemingly surprised to see her seated between Rodolphus and Bellatrix, who could not look less bored than right in that moment. However, the moment McGonagall's attention was no longer on Hermione, the other girl turned to give her a grin that promised their argument was a long way from being over.

The rest of the class, and the day for that matter, went by in a relative blur for Hermione. A good portion of the students continued to eye her curiously as she moved about the castle, a fair reaction given that transfer so late in a student's schooling, not to mention after term had begun, were basically unheard of. A couple more Slytherins interacted with her throughout her classes, as did a few Ravenclaws, but other than that she was left alone for the majority of the day.

It gave her time to think things through, and process what she's learned so far, both on an academic level and with Bellatrix and her family. The main thing yesterday and today taught her; Bellatrix was not a good person, even as a teenager. She was mean, and vicious, and seemed to always be looking for a fight, and Hermione hated everything about her. No, Hermione thought, she was not worth saving at all.

* * *

"You're coming to the match, aren't you?" Andromeda frowned when she saw Hermione had not moved from her position on one of the couches, her attention still claimed by the thick book in her lap. A plate with a partially eaten strawberry and some grape stems were beside an empty chalice, but aside form that nothing had changed since the last time Andromeda walked by, hours ago. "Your book can't be that exciting."

"I'm studying for transfiguration," Hermione responded distractedly, flipping through the page and not looking up at her friend. The week had gone by quickly, Hermione more involved in her classes than any sort of interaction with Bellatrix. Andromeda and her had started talking more often, and it seemed even such a negative interaction with her sister would not turn the Black daughter off from the new friendship, of which Hermione was grateful.

Hermione tried not to judge her for having two terrible, horrendous, monstrous sisters.

Unfortunately- or fortunately, since she was the goal here- Hermione shared a decent amount of her courses with the worst of the terrible, horrendous, monstrous sisters. It was hard to escape the girl, even if they hadn't outright interacted with one another in class save the Transfigurations on Monday, they did spend a decent amount of time glaring at one another.

Bellatrix had not sat beside her again following that first day, though Rodolphus had joined her table a few times, both of them seemingly not caring about any permanent seat placement. Hermione hadn't decided if she despised Bellatrix or Rodolphus more, even though the wizard had been nothing but pleasant and nearly friendly to her for all their interactions.

Back in the present, Andromeda was still waiting for her response.

"I have no interest in cheering on your wretched sister." In fact, her arm still ached from the nasty jinx Bellatrix had sent her the day before. The two of them had crossed paths in the hallways, completely alone for once, and to the shock of no-one Bellatrix had been unable to stay silent. Hermione was content to walk by as if the girl was not in her line of sight, but it seemed the dark witch had other plans and let a comment slide once again about her family name.

Hermione had taken the abuse from Draco as a first year, and even as a second year, but it had bubbled over during their third when she punched him. Since then, she had refused to be meek and allow someone to disrespect her blood heritage. She had to admit, she did not expect someone to mock her blood when it was supposedly pure, but that did not mean she would stand idly to the side when Bellatrix mocked Harry's family, especially his father. And so Hermione did not hold back on a verbal sparring match as she attacked Bellatrix's skills, her reputation, her attitude, and her hair. All of it was ultimately child's play, and she had made the naive mistake of turning her back on the witch after a moment to walk away.

Only to feel a sharp pain in her arm. The vile lunatic had sent a stinging jinx at her. Hermione had, of course, retaliated.

The two were caught only minutes later by a passing professor, and after being sent to Slughorn their head of house had no choice but to assign detention to them both, as well as a removal of twenty points each. Hermione had been steaming from embarrassment and anger, whereas Bellatrix looked more annoyed than anything else, and simply left the office with little more than a snapped goodbye to their professor.

Their detention was set to begin tonight, following the Quidditch game tonight and dinner.

The two witches haven't seen one another since, and for that Hermione was thankful.

"You aren't cheering on Bella, you're cheering on our house!" Andromeda laughed as she dropped to the couch beside her friend, crossing one leg over the other. Indeed, the girl was quite festive in her Slytherin get up: a green top hat and green and silver markings painted on her pale complexion.

The entire school had been looking forward to the first match of the year, older students eagerly betting with one another on which house would score the more points, and a few had even bet on which players were most likely to get hurt. At one point, Hermione heard a sixth year Ravenclaw make a bet regarding the dark haired witch they were currently talking about, though it seemed to be that she would cause the most injuries, not receive them. It didn't help the competitive atmosphere of the school at all that the two competing teams were none other than Gryffindor and Slytherin. A relatively big part of Hermione wished she could don the red and gold coloring and support her true house.

"Come on, Hermione! I know you and my sister don't see eye to eye," well, that was one way of putting it. "But come watch with me at least! Narcissa is coming too, it'll give you a chance to better get to know her!"

If Bellatrix took up the mentality that Hermione was to be harassed every chance that presented itself, then Narcissa was of a completely opposite viewpoint. Hermione simply did not exist.

She couldn't decide which one infuriated her more.

"That does nothing to sway my choice, Andromeda," came Hermione's dry response, but the book in her lap did close as she set it on the table with a sigh of defeat. "Fine, let me put on my robes."

* * *

The pitch was as loud as Hermione remembered it to be during Harry's matches, the crowd amping themselves up as they waited for the teams to come from their respective sides. It was easy to differentiate the two warring houses from the others, as nearly all the students in Gryffindor and Slytherin were outrageously colored in support of their teams, while Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were much subdued in regular school robes, but nonetheless excited to watch what was sure to be a volatile and entertaining match.

Andromeda led Hermione to the second row on the Slytherin side, completely opposite of the side she spent years cheering Harry on at. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind as the two girls sat down, Andromeda between Hermione and Narcissa, who surprisingly enough, had two small lines painted under her eyes in green and silver. It was the only support of her house she showed as she sat stiff backed and bored. Not once did she look at Hermione, though she nodded hello to her sister.

The weather was finally beginning to shift from the warmer August air to a more chilly fall temperature, enough so that Hermione debated the merits of going back to her room to change into a thicker sweater. Winter was still a ways off, but the combination of the late afternoon air and the near constant breeze would begin to weigh on her. She'd miss the first parts of the match if she walked to her dorm and back, but given that she didn't have much interest in watching the team fly around, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

She had just moved to tell Andromeda as much when the first cheers picked up, and Hermione turned to watch the Gryffindor team come flying from their side. It was so much like watching every single one of Harry's matches that she felt tears spring to her eyes, which she was luckily able to wipe away without being noticed. She watched him play for years, and still got a thrill each time she was able to see him fly onto the field for the start of the game. It was made even better when Ron was able to join in, though he lasted a season before he put his jersey away for the last time, and once more kept Hermione company on the side lines.

The Gryffindor uniforms hadn't changed over the last thirty years, Hermione noted as the players flew around waving at their house for a moment. They wore the same light pants and striped shirts, as well as the same red cloaks flying behind them. If Hermione squinted, it could very well be her friends on those brooms and not total strangers.

A moment later, all thoughts of the Gryffindor team fled Hermione's mind as the Slytherin team broke onto the pitch, and her gaze immediately found Bellatrix's small form on the left side.

The player was dressed in the typical Quidditch outfit- tight tan pants, dark boots and knee pads, along with the green and silver jersey and green robe, tightly tied across her chest. It was her hair that Hermione couldn't stop looking at, the usually chaotic and untamable dark mane forced into a relatively contained thick braid down her back. A few pieces had already escape their hold and twisted back up into the usual curls that surrounded her head, but as always she seemed indifferent to them.

Both teams finally stopped flying around the pitch for their introductions and came to settle in their rightful roles, Bellatrix and the other chasers flying high in the air as they waited for the balls to be released and tossed up. She was in the center, her attention entirely on the person who unlocked the box on the ground in the center of the pitch. The announcer stated the game was in play the moment the bludgers were freed and jerked into the air. The girl paid them no mind as both of the teams' two Beaters went after the small balls.

Bellatrix was good. Even without the game being started Hermione could tell. Harry would be as loathed to hear it as Hermione was to admit it, but the girl's skills on the pitch were undeniable. She commanded the utmost control of her movements upon her visibly expensive broom. Hermione couldn't be sure what the current hottest Quidditch broom on the market was on this time- something Ron and Ginny would absolutely know- but she was sure her family had gotten her the nicest and swiftest one money could buy.

It wasn't until the Quaffle was thrown up did Bellatrix move, her flying tight and precise as she dropped quickly towards the ground to be the one to catch the ball. Her skills rivaled that of Harry's, maybe even Krum's, and Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away as Bellatrix was indeed the one person to catch the ball, her technique impressive enough that Hermione started to question why Steve was captain instead of her.

Ten minutes into the match, however, Hermione had her answer in the form of watching Bellatrix slam the front of her broom none too gently into the Gryffindor holding the Quaffle.

The boy fell to the ground in a heap of broken broom while Bellatrix flew the ball that was now in her hands towards one of the rings, not caring at all that the boy had slammed into the ground. A professor ran to check on him as he limped off the pitch, but the game remained in motion and Bellatrix chucked the Quaffle as fast as she could into one of the rings and-

"10 points for Slytherin!" One of the announcers yelled into the microphone, causing a cheer to rise from the Slytherin section, Hermione's loud voice joining in as well. She was so caught up in the magic of Quidditch she couldn't help but support her house, even if it wasn't the one she should have been in. When Gryffindor scored 20 points following two successful Quaffle goals, Hermione didn't stop herself from booing.

Steve was a decent Keeper, and it seemed that letting those two balls fly by infuriated him enough that he refused to allow one more to slip through. Gryffindor tried their hardest, but none of the Chasers were able to break through for the next few minutes of play, especially with Slytherin's unrelenting attack of bludgers consistently coming their way. A Gryffindor player threw one of the bludgers at the closest Chaser to him, which just so happened to be Bellatrix. Hermione was convinced the girl would take a brutal hit similar to the one she had given earlier, as surely no one could move their broom that fast in such short notice, but just as she thought the rough attack would come, Bellatrix moved.

It seemed the other player knew Bellatrix better, as the Beaters anticipated the move and had another bludger headed into the exact spot Bellatrix had just twisted into, this one definitely unavoidable. And the extreme hit did come, slamming right into the girl's torso and knocking her sideways. It had to be painful, as even from Hermione's position she could hear the pained grunt Bellatrix let out as she fought to stay on her broom, one hand gripped to her ribs as she grimaced.

Steve screamed something at the players, his face red with fury but unable to leave the posts as right in that moment, the other team's Chasers came to try a second wave of attack.

The Beaters lost interest in Bellatrix, thoroughly pleased to have gotten revenge for their fallen teammate from early, and dropped to fly lower to the ground, chasing another Slytherin member.

Even Hermione yelled her disgust at the rough play, something she knew Harry and Ginny never would have permitted on their team, her entire body tensed as she watched Bellatrix attempt to right herself. She was clearly injured and in pain, and one of the Slytherin Beaters flew up to check in and received an enraged swat in return. Andromeda screamed an insult at the player who hurt her sister, the words much to filthy to be spoken so loudly close to professors, but her words were drowned out by the rest of the viewers. Even Narcissa, usually so stoic, had a hand over her mouth and was half out of her seat before Bellatrix started flying once more, one hand firmly on her side and the other on her broom.

"She shouldn't stay in," Hermione mumbled, her words barely picked up over the roar of the crowd, though the two Black sisters heard her well enough.

It was Narcissa who answered, her voice uncharacteristically level instead of the dry tone she spoke to Hermione with. "She isn't leaving the match until the game ends or she's pulled from it, the bloody idiot." Something about hearing the girl call her sister a 'bloody idiot' pulled a small smile from Hermione and she let out a laugh.

A scream from the pitch had both of their attentions back on the game, and they had obviously missed a vital move on Slytherin's part because not only did Bellatrix have the ball once more, but one of the two guys who hurt her was cradling his arm close to his chest, his face pulled into a tight grimace as he broom began lowering to the ground so he could get treated. If Hermione had to guess, she'd say Bellatrix managed to break his arm in retaliation.

Even when the girl scored another girl for their team Hermione didn't bother to question why she had not be chosen for captain.

The game continued for another hour, both teams scoring points every now and then, but it wasn't until Slytherin's Seeker finally caught the Snitch did the game come to an end, everyone dressed in green rushing the field to celebrate with their team. Hermione found herself dragged along with Andromeda and Narcissa, both girls desperate to check the state of their sister, and came upon her leaning against one of the walls, her hand still pressed against her ribs as she hissed in pain.

"Bella!" Andromeda called, rushing to a stop before the older girl and reached a tentative hand towards her toros. Bellatrix hit the offending limb away, scowling at her sister in response and snapping to leave her alone. Oh, she was not in a good mood at all. Perhaps Hermione shouldn't be here, given all of their previous interactions had either ended in violence or come very close to it. Her arm still carried a bit of the sting from earlier.

"You need to get to the hospital wing, Bella," Narcissa said as she too came to a stop beside Bellatrix, her arms crossed and her mouth set in a firm line. "Your ribs are probably broken. You shouldn't have even finished the game."

Once again, Hermione was reminded of the fact that Narcissa was only thirteen, and tried to think of herself at that age. The blonde witch seemed so much older and well rounded than either of her elder sisters, a sort of weariness surrounded her that she couldn't seem to shake, almost as if she had lived fifty years instead of little over a dozen. Had it been Ron and Harry at thirteen, Harry would not have stopped the match either, and Ron would have cheered him on for every second of it. Hermione would have been the one to tell him to go get checked out, and he would have grumbled the entire time about doing so.

"I'm fine, Cis- what's the blood-traitor doing here?"

Hermione had been hanging a bit away from the three girls, letting Narcissa and Andromeda fuss over their sister. Let them take the brunt of her anger before she noticed Hermione's presence. It didn't work as well as she had hoped, given that Bellatrix now had that hate filled gaze turned towards her as she pushed herself off of the walk and began a slow walk closer. Each step had to have caused a jolt, as she kept that pain filled expression barely hidden under a look of loathing the closer she got to Hermione. Andromeda and Narcissa were quick to follow, though Hermione wasn't sure if they were going to watch the inevitable argument or intervene.

"It's an embarrassment to the Slytherin house to have you cheer for us."

"Slytherin is my house as well, I can do what I want."

"This noble house, like all other noble houses should belong to only true pure-bloods. You and your family are a disgrace to us all, no better than muggle trash or mudbloods."

"Bella-" Andromeda said warily, coming to stand beside her sister with a hand placed on her upper arm. "You're in pain and it's making you unnecessarily angry. Let's go get a potion from the hospital wing to make you feel better."

Bellatrix whirled on her sister, that ridiculously thick braid flying in the air as she did so. Hermione barely was able to pick up the hiss of pain the fast movement caused the girl before she began yelling at her sister. For none of the other Slytherin players or house members to look longer than a moment at the scene led Hermione to believe it happened often enough.

And Andromeda, to Hermione's eternal delight and shock, did not accept the verbal assault quietly. In that moment, Hermione learned two things about her new friend when she got mad:

1\. She is not afraid to get physical.

And, much more importantly, 2. She is not afraid to fight dirty.

Quicker than any of the girls could prepare for, Andromeda jerked both of her arms forward and into her sister's stomach, the majority of her weight towards Bellatrix's wounded side. The girl, visibly wounded and not ready for such an attack, collapsed onto the ground. Hermione let out a gasp at the wet noise she made when she sucked in a shallow breath, the attack taking much more out of her than it would have if she hadn't previously been injured. Not that it made much of a difference in the end, as Bellatrix jumped up quicker than Hermione thought possible and moved to retaliate on her sister.

Narcissa, who Hermione was quickly learning played mediator often, jerked Bellatrix back by the end of her Quidditch robe, and did not flinch at the look the girl sent her for the action, one that promised violence if she wasn't released right that moment.

"You can't breathe," Narcissa snapped, before turning her attention to their middle sister. "Leave with Potter. Now."

Hermione, who had been standing on the side lines, unable to move or blink, finally jerked into action at the use of her- fake- last name, and watched as Andromeda did not bother to argue with either girl. She just gave Bellatrix a mocking laugh as she walked towards Hermione and wrapped her hand around the brunette's forearm. As she was being pulled away, Hermione heard Bellatrix tear into Narcissa for getting in the way of her fight with Andromeda, before relenting to see the nursing staff.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I just wanted to take a minute to say thank you to everyone who reviewed, bookmarked, or left kudos. everything is so greatly appreciate and really inspires me to keep writing, so thanks so much! 
> 
> also this chapter is a bit shorter than the others, so sorry for that, but I was having major writers block with this chapter for some reason, so I hope everyone still enjoys it!

A few hours after the Quidditch match was finished, and dinner in the Great Hall had long since ended, Hermione began the first of three detention days in the Forbidden Forest with Bellatrix and Hagrid. The latter had sent a rush of happiness through her body when she saw him for the first time, a feeling that was promptly squished when he greeted her with little more than his happy-go-lucky smile as he introduced himself, but his warm eyes held none of the recognition of familiarity she was used to seeing from him. Seeing Hagrid and not having him know that not only did he know her, but also not know how so vitally important he was to her, hurt the most of seeing other familiar faces throughout the castle.

Of course, she had little think to allow that sadness to seep into her body before the other person she was forced to spend the night around sank in. Andromeda had informed Hermione during dinner that her sister’s ribs were not broken, just badly bruised, but overall nothing a potion wouldn't fix. After only a few hours in the hospital wing, Bellatrix had been released and sent to partake in detention as well, with her only instructions to take it easy and refrain from Quidditch for the next two days.

Hermione knew the girl wouldn’t listen, and let a dark and silent wish of the girl getting further hurt to teach her a lesson slip into her mind. It was a terrible thought, but the dark haired witch brought out such an ugly side of Hermione that she just couldn’t seem to control.

They bickered back and forth, and traded seemingly every insult under the sun when Hagrid wasn’t paying close attention to them. At one point, Bellatrix even threw a rock at Hermione’s back. It was only Hagrid sending them off in opposite directions after he heard the brunette’s furious yell that stopped her from responding in her own immature way. That’s how the rest of the night, as well as the next detention went, and Hermione was sure by the end of the second day Hagrid had to be wondering what he could have done to deserve such a punishment as having to monitor the two witches so heavily.

After both detentions were finish, Hermione and Bellatrix were quick to go their separate ways, the darker witch stomping off to sulk who knows where, terrorize whatever poor soul crossed her path first, or kick a puppy. Hermione truly had no idea what the other girl did in her free time, though she had seen her enough times with Rodolphus to wager an educated guess. The two of them were meant for each other, both horribly wretched and undeserving of any true and genuine love.

She got to Hermione in ways no one else was able to do. Hermione did understand that most of this stemmed from the mark on her arm, that a fear of the woman had grown in her at the thought of ever being under her like that again, and it manifested itself into anger towards the Death Eater’s younger self. This Bellatrix had done enough for Hermione to heavily dislike her- taunts, insults, hexes, to name a few- but did that justify Hermione’s unrelenting hatred of the girl? Probably not, and someone not aware of the true history between them must think Hermione little more than a hostile witch dead set on fighting with another student she technically hardly knew.

Yes, she definitely needed to work on that some more, and most definitely needed to stop giving into Bellatrix’s taunts so easily. 

“You haven’t been to Hogsmeade yet, right? It’s a lot more fun than being stuck in the Forbidden Forest all night.” Andromeda teased as they walked from their final courses of the day back to their dorms to change. It was the first Hogsmeade trip of the year, and the students were all bustling with anticipation of being free for an afternoon of fun and butterbeer. 

Hermione would be lying if she said she wasn’t looking forward to the outing, and even having to go back to the Forbidden Forest for one last time tonight wasn’t enough to ruin it for it. She even enjoyed Andromeda’s teasing about her detention, of which the younger girl had been doing often. She found it very hilarious that Hermione had been caught dueling with none other than her sister, and was forced to spend even more time with her than either would have ever preferred. 

“I haven’t been,” she lied as they finally reached the dorms, both pausing before going their separate ways. “I’ve heard they have delicious butterbeer,” she smiled, thinking of all the times her and her friends have gone down to the Three Broomsticks and spent an afternoon enjoying themselves with one another. “I’m excited to go with you.” She wasn’t surprised to realize that was a true statement as they both left one another, Hermione walking straight to her bed and chest to change out of her uniform and into a more comfortable outfit. 

The door behind her slid closed and she found herself completely rooted to the spot, the only noise being the gentle music coming from the phonograph in the corner that covered up the sounds of her entrance. 

There was only one other person in the dorm, an unusual occurrence given the amount of girls that lived in the room, and that one person was the one that had the ability to single handedly destroy Hermione’s good mood with her very existence. Except this time, Bellatrix was half naked and facing her bed, unaware anyone else had come into the room. 

It wasn’t uncommon for the girls to change clothes in front of one another, and why would it be? They all spent nine months living together, were all for the most part reasonably friends, so it didn’t make much sense to leave the room each time they wanted to switch an outfit. Hermione never paid much attention to the other girls if they were changing, and figured the same could be said when she changed clothes. 

This time, Hermione could not look anywhere but at the girl before her. 

Bellatrix was only in a pair of black underwear and tight black corset, the laces on the side and not quite tied all the way together yet. Her hair was still wet from a bath she must have taken recently, all those thick locks shoved to one side of her head as she focused on choosing an outfit from her chest. On any other person, wet and tangled hair would have looked unkempt, but on Bellatrix, the water managed to wrangle in the disordered curls together in what had to be the most contained her hair would ever be. 

Hermione couldn't breathe or blink or _think_ as her eyes moved over the lithe form, seeing the girl’s back muscles strain under her skin with all of her movements. Years of Quidditch practice had done nothing but good things for her body. 

Only, it was not Bellatrix’s indisputable beauty Hermione felt her breath catch at. While, yes, the girl was most definitely gorgeous, and seemingly sculpted from marble, it was the ugly markings along the back of her upper thighs that finally caught Hermione’s attention. 

Rectangular scarring about two fingers wide criss crossed at the very top of legs, light pink and faded. A few of them were raised like welts, but the majority were flushed to her skin, the edges a distorted silvery against such pale skin. Some of the scars looked newer, whereas others looked as if they had been formed years ago. One disappeared under the edge of her black underwear and led Hermione to believe that had the girl been fully naked- a thought that intensified the blush already on her cheeks- she’d find more going up her back. 

What could have done that to her? Or, more importantly, _who_? 

She must have made an audible noise, because a moment later Bellatrix was spinning around with a ferocious scowl in place that only deepened when she saw just who interrupted her. 

“ _Get out._ ” Bellatrix’s voice was that dangerous, high-pitched tone it took that let Hermione know she was really about to lose whatever slim amount of patience she had left. 

For once, Hermione couldn’t find the words to argue back with the girl. Her mind refused to think of anything that wasn’t the brutish scar tissue on the back of her otherwise perfect body. She was only seventeen, what could have happened to her in such a short period of time? Hermione’s own body carried a fair amount of scars, but they had been given throughout battles defending Hogwarts and the wizarding community from people like the witch standing before her. Aside from the one on her arm, none of the marks had been done with the intention to brand her for any reason. 

She didn’t think the same applied the Bellatrix. Those scars looked _deliberate_. Their cluster of placement was too controlled to be anything but a planned assault, and the varying stages of faded each mark carried spoke volumes of how long the abuse had been going on. 

Someone was beating her, had been beating her for years, but who? Her parents? Hermione thought of Andromeda, relaxed and peaceful in every situation she could recall, nothing at all of any signs of being abused. She couldn’t be completely certain unless she saw her friend’s back as well, and couldn’t think of a situation where that would happen, but were the girls truly being abused? Cygnus and Druella were most definitely terrible people for their beliefs of blood purity alone, but were they cruel to their children as well? 

Or was it someone else? Rodolphus came to mind, but he would have to have been just as young as Bellatrix when the assaults first started. Not only that, but she couldn’t picture Bellatrix bending so easily to the will of some boy, so he was quickly crossed off the list. 

Voldemort? Or another Death Eater? Hermione wasn’t sure when Bellatrix first became tangled up in the group, and McGonagall hadn’t been entirely forthcoming with information when telling her she needed to change Bellatrix’s point of views before the school year ended. But being abused by her Lord or another one of his followers didn’t make sense either, as why would Bellatrix so readily support the actions of a man who beat her? 

None of it was adding up. 

Bellatrix was tired of waiting for a response as she just screamed louder when Hermione showed no signs of moving anytime soon. “Are you fucking deaf, rat! Get the _fuck_ out of here!” 

In the short time Hermione had been at Hogwarts this year, she’s been privy to what she had assumed were all the emotions Bellatrix was capable of experiencing; annoyance, rage, and agitation coming to the forefront of Hermione’s mind immediately. And currently, Bellatrix was unmistakably enraged, but there was also something else Hermione hadn’t been prepare for. 

The girl was desperate. 

“I just-” Hermione was still at a lose for words as she took one hesitant step back. Not out of fear, even as Bellatrix reached for the closest object- a hairbrush, that Hermione hadn’t thought the girl owned- to chuck at her, but out of some small part of her that found she actually pitied Bellatrix. 

Well, that was a new experience. 

“I don’t _give_ a fuck,” Bellatrix seethed, her eyes dark and depthless as she took another threatening step towards the brunette. “Shut your filthy fucking whore mouth and _get the fuck out!_ ” 

Hermione knew she was in no position to argue or fight with the girl right now. She did the wisest thing she could and left. As the door slammed shut behind her, she heard the brush finally collide with the wood, followed a second later by Bellatrix’s crazed scream. 

* * *

“Weren’t you going to change?” Andromeda frowned once the two of them met back up in the common area. The fifth year had shed her dark robes in favor of a dark green dress and black booties, a light weight white cloak tied across her shoulders. The outfit was simplistic in design, but even Hermione could tell it was of expensive quality. She doubted any of the Black daughters left the house without the most recent styles in the most costly fabrics, of that Andromeda was no exception. 

Hermione looked down at her own outfit, still dressed in her school attire, and let loose a defeated sigh. She wouldn’t be changing today, not that she could really focus too much on her appearance. Bellatrix had been shaken when she discovered Hermione saw her, less angry and more _scared_ , if such an emotion could be applied to her. It boggled Hermione’s mind the more she thought back to it, and she merely gave Andromeda a noncommittal shrug before saying they should join the others to walk over to the village. 

As they went, Andromeda introduced her to a few of her friends outside of Slytherin house, mainly from Hufflepuff, though a few Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were mixed in as well. One such Ravenclaw was a fellow fifth year named Ted, who Hermione noticed with no small amount of joy that he could not take his eyes off of her friend. For her part, Andromeda became more and more elated the longer the attention went on, and eventually Hermione found herself walking beside two other Ravenclaws when the girl in question fell behind to walk beside Ted. 

Their affectionate for one another was plainly seen by everyone, and yet no one in this group made any sort of comment about Andromeda fancying him, despite their differing blood status. She knew that were Bellatrix and Narcissa here, along with any of the other Slytherin students, it would not be so easy, and most likely Andromeda would not be able to be as free as she was being with Ted were that the case. 

He did take a break from speaking with Andromeda to walk beside Hermione, and it was nice to see she wasn’t the only one who remained in the school uniform. Though Ted didn’t have his cloak, his sweater was straightened against his button down and his tie was tucked firmly in place as he gave Hermione a welcoming smile and nod of his head. “Andy’s been telling me about you, but it’s nice to finally meet you, Hermione.” He said her name a little funny, stretching out the middle syllables a bit too much, but did immediately correct himself when Hermione gave the proper pronunciation. 

“I’m glad to have her as a friend, and it’s nice to meet you as well,” Hermione smiled back just as easily, taking Ted’s offered hand in a quick shake. It was smooth and warm, and while he may be two years younger, his grip was firm and his hand larger than her own. The two talked for a moment more, mainly about discovering their shared love of the courses offered here. As they walked, others in the group joined in with their own opinions on the professors and classes. 

She fell into an easy role within Andromeda’s friend group as they finally reached Hogsmeade. Hardly any of the students present listened to McGonagall’s speech about respectful behavior and how each of them were individually representing the school, and as such their actions reflected the reputation of such an esteemed place. Basically, behave. Given that Hermione knew Bellatrix was somewhere here, though she was yet to see the girl- after their run in with one another in the dorms, she was in no rush to do so- she doubted every person would be on their best behavior. 

It didn’t matter in the end, as she forced the dark witch and the scars across her body to the back of her mind and chased after Andromeda and the others once they reached the edge of the village. 

Hermione was actually having fun with Andromeda and her friends as they walked from shop to shop, enjoying the cool afternoon air and peaceful day everyone was having. Andromeda insisted they stop at Gladrag’s Wizardwear for new socks and a new sweater, the pattern hideous and the fabric bordering on scratchy, but she bought it happily and made a comment of how much it would infuriate her mother to see her in it. Afterwards, Ted wanted to pop into Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop for new stationary for his desk, and so Hermione allowed herself to be pulled from store to store in a gaggle of laughing students. 

It was nice, this calm and relaxing day, and Hermione felt grateful to have this time with people she was slowly but surely coming to view as friends. She would know Andromeda and Ted later in life, but as little more than allies in an increasingly desperate war, and never as true friends. She would have never come to learn that Andromeda’s favorite color was purple, or that she was absolutely terrible in the Study of Ancient Runes, and relied almost entirely on Ted to get her through the course. 

She also would never have found out that Ted had absolutely zero skills when it came to flirting with girls and making his attentions known. Hermione was privy to the train wreck that was Ted’s attempts at wooing Andromeda, who most definitely noticed the attempts and took them all in stride with gentle laughs and reddening cheeks. 

The experiences were enough to provide a startling cognizance that the adults she would come to rely on for support during the most dangerous fight of their lives were children themselves at one point, making the same mistakes she had once done with her own friends. There was none of the couple who would, in only four years time, give birth to a strong willed witch who grew up to be a high ranking member of the Order, a couple who so readily opened their home to that same organization and would one day know the most tragic pain there was. 

Tonks would die, as would her loving husband, not long after Ted himself was killed. Andromeda would be the last living member of such a loving family, save for the baby boy she was left to raise on her own. 

_Stop thinking about that_ , Hermione chastised herself. Nothing good would come from it. But the future was not set in stone, and maybe if she could save her friend’s demented sister, she could her save her friend and her family. Luckily, she wasn't left alone long enough for any pressing weights to settle more deeply on her shoulders as she watched Ted trip over himself and Andromeda barely catch him before he tumbled into the dirt. 

It was enough to lighten her spirits once more, and the group found an empty table at the Three Broomsticks for some butterbeer. It was Andromeda’s idea to start a race to see who could finish their drink the fastest, and though Hermione sat that one out, she did enjoy cheering on her friend. In the end, one of the Gryffindor boys won, all of the participants sporting varying sizes of foam mustaches and swatting at one another good-naturedly once the teasing picked up. Andromeda had come in second to last, only barely ahead of a Hufflepuff girl who started laughing so hard Hermione feared fizz and foam would spew from her nose.

Once the group had finished their drinks and were all comfortably full, most of the others broke away from Hermione and Andromeda to go join other students from their houses. Only Ted remained for a moment longer, and Hermione walked a few paces ahead to give the two some privacy as he said bye. Of course, the minute Andromeda caught up, Hermione couldn’t help but poke fun at the blush on her friend’s cheek. 

Andromeda shoved her shoulder, and Hermione whirled around in mock outrage as she shoved the girl back, and thus began what was undoubtedly a childish, but very pleasant, shoving match between the two right there on the cobblestone. Normally, she would have balked at the idea of appearing so immature in front of strangers, but the fifth year was able to pull out a playful side of Hermione she thought only Ron and Harry capable of doing. 

And then, after they had caught their breath and hopped back onto the path, her fun promptly ended when she heard the high cackle that had the hairs on the back of her neck standing up and her shoulders tensing. She didn’t need to search for long before she saw the dark haired witch only a little ways away, sitting on one of the low rising stone fences, her black heeled clad feet dangling. 

And she wasn’t alone, with a few other Slytherin house members beside her. Rodolphus was there, leaning against the fence and dressed in black pants and a form fitting grey button down. Unlike most days when his hair was loose to his shoulders, he had it secured behind his head in a bun, and just a hint of facial hair showing on his chin and jaw. One of his hands was placed possessively on Bellatrix’s upper thigh, and Hermione had no choice but to think back to the scars littering the girl’s form. 

There was no way Rodolphus caused them. Of that she was sure. One person eliminated, too many contenders still left. Hermione doubted she’d ever get an answer on that mystery. There was no way bellatrix herself would volunteer what was clearly sensitive information, and if Andromeda knew about the beatings she would not turn on her sister. 

Bellatrix noticed Hermione immediately, and slammed her mouth shut. For a few glorious seconds, the girl didn’t say a single thing, and she looked at Hermione as if debated if commenting was the wisest choice, given what the brunette had just recently saw. In the end, Bellatrix’s lack of self control and inability to not harass Hermione won out. “If it isn’t the wittle dirty rat out for a stroll with my own sister.”

“Bella,” Andromeda groaned with her head thrown back, giving her sister a look that said she wasn’t in the mood to hear another argument. “Can’t you behave?”

“Watch it, love,” Bellatrix laughed, Rodolphus and the others joining in as well. Hermione took the moments reprieve to study the others- three boys and one girl, as well as Narcissa. She knew them all, knew all of them would one day join Voldemort on his path of destruction, but none save for Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and the last boy on the left would ever make it into the Dark Lord’s inner circle. Narcissa would never fully become a Death Eater like her sister or husband, would never take the brand, though she did sit idly by and watch the man she married commit such treacherous acts, and then later drag their only child into such a mess. 

The blonde gave Hermione a dry look, that same gaze of disinterest ever-present before she turned her attention to her older sister, stood silent beside Hermione. The three of them had such an intriguing and complex relationship, each one so painfully different from the others. Hermione still couldn’t place which one was the hardest to figure out just yet. 

Now wasn’t the time to think about the girls’ convoluted interactions with one another, not when Bellatrix was showing no signs of the same panicked girl from earlier, and all signs of someone ready to reclaim her powerful imagine. Screaming like she had earlier made her think herself weak, and she would be straining to shift that appearance, even if only Hermione had been the one to see her like that. 

Even Bellatrix and Narcissa weren’t to whom Hermione looked at in that moment, as a raspy and too deep laugh sounded, and she was reminded it wasn’t just her and the Black sisters on this path. She looked to the last one who would become a member of the inner circle, and scowled right back at him. 

She had quite literally ran into him the other night in the library, so caught up in the passage she was reading while she walked she hadn’t seen another person headed in her direction. He made his displeasure at the assault very clear, and did not hold back from the insults he laid into her Hermione for a moment before deeming further interaction with her insignificant and stalking away. 

Looking at him now, she was startled to see she hadn’t put the connection together. That was Rabastan Lestrange standing beside his brother, dressed much the same in dark pants and button down as he sneered at Andromeda. He was a sixth year, taller and lanky than his brother, and with shorter hair cropped close to his head. 

“Big words coming from you, aye,” Rabastan said suddenly, putting all the attention on him, but Hermione watched out of the corner of her eyes as Andromeda tensed. Bellatrix gave her sister a curious look, but otherwise said nothing and allowed him to continue. “Running around with sympathizers and mudbloods all day. Bit of a spit in the face to such a noble name, isn’t it?” 

Rabastan lacked his brother’s elegant grace and poised way of insulting someone. Hermione learned that right in that moment, as well as something much more valuable. 

It seemed the only one who could insult her sister was Bellatrix herself. 

There was no warning before the girl sent a stinging hex, most likely the same that had started the fight between her and Hermione days ago, to the dark wizard’s neck. He collapsed in an instant onto the hard ground, none of the others around him reacting or moving to help as he clutched his neck with a pained yelp. 

“Attack the traitor all you want,” Bellatrix said as she hopped down from the wall, moving to crouch so she could look Rabastan in the eye. “You know Andy is off limits.” 

Interesting. So very interesting. 

Rodolphus did nothing as Bellatrix kicked his brother in the stomach, forcing the sixteen year old to curl into a protective ball. The action almost made Hermione laugh, if only because she knew how heinous and repulsive the boy would grow up to be. 

“Knock it off, Bella,” Narcissa finally spoke up after the second kick to Rabastan’s sternum. She walked to stand beside her eldest sister, one arm wrapped loosely around her muscled bicep. “He gets the point. You’re just being cruel now.” 

“Yes,” Bellatrix said as she stared down at the crumpled teenager by her feet. “I am.” Then she jerked her head towards Hermione, and that same look of indecision was back for a fraction of a second before replaced by that smug grin. “You should scurry along now before I get bored of dear old Bast and find entertainment in you.” 

Andromeda gave her sister one last withering look before tugging on Hermione’s arm, away from the bustling areas of the small village, moving closer to the forest and the lake Ron had originally taught Hermione how to skip rocks on. She had been terrible, and had never really figured out the trick to get it to bounce more than once, but she’d had fun either way, laughing with Ron while Harry watched. 

It was that very same place they ended up, both girls quiet as Andromeda climbed on top of a large and mostly flat rock. Gentle waves lapped against the smooth stones, and the fifth year scooped up a handful to start tossing them into the water. Andromeda was not aiming to skip the rocks like Ron in Hermione’s memory, merely chuck them up in the air and watch them plop down in a little ark, the only sounds being the small waves and the crashing of stone every few moments. 

Hermione wasn’t much in the mood for talking as she moved to sit beside her friend. Andromeda gave her a relaxed smile and opened her hand to offer one of the pebbles currently held in it. With a laugh, Hermione plucked one from her palm and tossed it into the water. 

It was calming, being here with Andromeda, and thinking none of the job she was so pathetically failing at. It was just like she was a normal student, nothing more than any other regular seventh year preparing to make the startling transition from student to functioning adult in the real world. What would she be worrying about right now, if there were no threats from Voldemort, no promises of pain and torture by deranged Death Eaters, and no fear that her best friends would all be killed?

She supposed she’d be like Amelia and Lilith, blind to most of life impurities and focused little more on their friendships and classes, as well as finding a boyfriend to marry after school. Those weren’t bad things to prioritize, Hermione knew, and didn't fault her friends for having a normal life. She was nearly envious of them and the easy way they were able to move through life. 

So different than anything she’s come to know for the last six years, but also so different from the life of the girl beside her. Andromeda did not spend her school years worrying whether she would survive to see the next, nor did the nightmares of her dead friends keep her up at night. It would come later, once she reached adulthood and began throwing her support behind the Order, but for now she could live thinking everything was fine. Or did she? Hermione couldn’t imagine growing up in such a family as the Blacks, or any other pretentious and old-fashioned pure-blood society like them. 

She had seen what it did to Draco, how entitlement and privilege festered inside him until anything good was snuffed out. He never had to worry about money, or his future, or anything bad happening to him. His family name was enough to get him out of most situations, but did that mean he had the freedom to do as he wished? It had been his parents actions that forced him into becoming a Death Eater, it had been Voldemort’s decision that he must kill Dumbledore. There was not much autonomy when it came to deciding what he wanted to do, and in the end it had turned him into a sniveling brat. 

Was that what it was like to be raised by Cygnus and Druella? Bellatrix certainly acted as smug and egotistical as Draco ever did, more so probably, and Narcissa managed to maintain that aura of superiority no matter the situation. Even Andromeda was not immune to becoming smug once in a while, though it was admittedly much more rare than either of her sister. Did any of them have a say in their own lives? Andromeda would one day soon, when she turned her back on her entire family and walked away with a muggle born, and Bellatrix would escape into Voldemort’s inner circle. Only Narcissa would remain in the exact same place she had been raised, the sole difference being a change of last name. 

The longer she thought about it, Hermione wasn’t sure which life to live was worse. 

The sun was close to setting by the time Andromeda pulled herself off of the rock, the tiny pebbles in her hand long since run out. Most of the time had been spent in companionable silence between the two, occasionally broken up by a comment here or there by either girl, but other than that the quietness of the lake was quite soothing. 

Hermione was in a much better headspace by the time she reached the castle and said a quick goodbye to Andromeda before rushing off to meet at Hagrid’s for her last night of detention. She didn’t even care that she’d been spending another day with Bellatrix. Nothing could ruin the tranquil mood she found herself in. 


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a heads up to anyone reading this chapter, for whatever reason AO3 did not update that chapter 3 was released, so please make sure you've read the third chapter before reading this one! 
> 
> the story is going to be picking up much faster following this chapter, and it's going to start getting a bit darker and violent soon, so buckle up! 
> 
> thanks for everyones support once again!

The universe was determined to prove Hermione’s previous statement of nothing being able to ruin her mood completely incorrect. And it did so in the most spectacular, obvious, painful, abhorrent way possible.

If Hermione thought Bellatrix had been in atrocious moods before, it was nothing compared to now, as the dark witch stomped throughout the forest. She had been snippy and rude the moment she came into sight of the small cabin Hagrid lived in, and had not hesitated to start slewing insults at both the half-giant and Hermione.

Bellatrix had been hesitant to goad Hermione into an argument in front of her friends. The brunette knew that, and also knew there would be backlash after uncovering what had to be a deeply held secret. No, Bellatrix was too smart to risk Hermione voicing what she had found in front of the other students, maybe even in front of Narcissa and Andromeda too, if- at the very least- the girls didn’t know about it, and at the worst, didn’t share the same markings.

But they were no longer surrounded by other Slytherin students, were no longer out in the open of people possibly listening in. And that meant, Bellatrix no longer had to hold back such a callous tongue.

It had gotten to the point that even Hagrid needed a moment reprieve, and so he instructed the girls to head eastward while he continued straight, and they would come back together shortly if neither path led to the trolls.

Hindsight was always 20/20, and he certainly should not have sent the two girls- whose reason for being in detention to begin with was fighting amongst each other- off on their own, given their heated arguments from the last two nights. Hagrid continued onward before Hermione could voice any dissent at being left alone with the psycho, and so she merely pushed forward and refused to acknowledge the girl existed.

Bellatrix had other ideas, and made it quite evident she was not one to be ignored.

“You must be very happy, rat,” she began with what was starting to becoming Hermione’s least favorite word. Definitely up there with ‘mudblood’. 

They had been walking for a few minutes now, long enough to no longer be able to hear Hagrid’s heavy foot falls. They hadn’t seen any sort of living creature save for a few bugs and small spiders. Despite her less than pleasant company, Hermione let a little smile break through as the spiders led her to thinking about Ron. He would have been a shaking, quivering mess in the woods at the sight of the eight legged monstrosities. His fears had only worsened after meeting Aragog in their second year, despite the Acromantula being a friend of Hagrid’s. In Ron’s defense, the giant spider did want to eat them originally.

A light laugh broke free and Bellatrix gave her a dirty look that quickly ruined her lightened mood once more, and she scowled in return.

“Nothing about being around you brings me happiness, Bellatrix.” 

“While you have no right to even be so close to me, blood-traitor, that wasn’t what I meant.” The girl definitely wanted Hermione to ask what it was she did mean, but Hermione would not give her that satisfaction, and after a minute of silence Bellatrix said in a faux high-pitched and childish voice, “Being around such muck and grime reminds you of home! Little rat love rolling around like roaches, don’t you!”

Hermione, having had more than enough of the girl’s attitude for the rest of her lifetime, did the most logical and mature thing she could have possibly done right in that moment. It was obvious Bellatrix was ready for Hermione’s response, she could see that by the way the girl moved her hand towards the pocket of her robes, certainly gripping her wand. Too bad for her, Hermione was not going for her own wand, was not going for a magical response at all.

Bellatrix was a better duelist, that much was undeniable as much as it grated on Hermione’s pride to admit it, but unfortunately it was the truth. Their previous encounters with one another have proven time and time again that Bellatrix was a skilled witch, and Hermione was not the only likely to walk away from another fight like that. And in this moment, that was fine. Hermione wasn’t in the mood to duel.

While Bellatrix moved to jerk her wand out of her pocket, Hermione slammed her whole body weight into Bellatrix and tackled them both into the ground.

Pure-blooded magic users seemed to forget that there were non magical solutions to their problems. Seemed to forget that, sometimes, a spell was not the best choice. That fact was plainly seen in this scenario, as Bellatrix let out a pained grunt when her body slammed into the hard packed earth below, her head bouncing roughly off of the grass. Hermione’s entire weight collapsed on top of her, and she gave no sign that she was going in for another attack before she threw a punch right at the girl’s jaw and let out a hiss of pain from the contact of her knuckles. Her legs were on either side of Bellatrix’s waist, pinning the girl to the ground, and one hand held the color of the dark witch’s sweater to keep her down.

Unfortunately, that seemed to be the only upper hand Hermione would get, and quicker than she was expecting, Bellatrix regained her bearings from the tackle and the punch and reacted.

Years of Quidditch was not for naught as the witch was in impressive shape, and being pressed so closely against her, Hermione could feel the muscles of her stomach tensing against her inner thighs as she tried to buck her off. Whatever potion the matron gave her earlier was doing its job as she showed no signs of weakness, and a moment later gained enough momentum to flip their positions so it was Hermione being forced into the rough ground.

A rock dug painfully into her spine and she let out a gasp, and could do little more than struggle as Bellatrix took her newfound freedom to clamber higher on Hermione’s body, weight now centered on her chest with the dark haired witch’s thighs resting on her shoulders.

Hermione was completely frozen for a second. No longer was she in the Forbidden Forest, cool mud seeping into the back of her sweater, the occasional animal noise somewhere far in the background. All of these sensations disappeared as she was thrust back into a much similar situation. Dirt and leaves shifted to the smooth and shiny floor of Malfoy Manor, the surrounding trees fell away and morphed to the dark walls of the dinning hall as she was once more pinned in a similar fashion.

Her arm throbbed, and panic began overtaking her body as she fought down the rising feeling of tears pricking her eyes. She would not cry, would not lay down and allow Bellatrix to brand her so easily as before and-

A hard punch to her cheek dragged out of the painful memory and had her yell out in pain. Bellatrix hadn’t wasted any opportunity slip from between her fingers as the disgusting copper taste filled Hermione’s mouth. As much as the hit hurt, it was exactly what she needed to be brought back into the present and reminded her that she currently needed to fight back.

Both of them were screaming back and forth as Bellatrix rained blows down on Hermione, who in return dug her nails as deeply into pale thighs as she could, and pushed on once she felt the warm, slick sensation of blood coating her nails. It matched the metallic taste in her mouth- she must have either bit her tongue or cheek from the hit, or she was hit hard enough to make her gums bleed.

Hermione had just wiggled enough to think she may have a chance to dislodge the girl above her when the loud sound of twigs breaking underneath rapidly moving feet sounded, and the weight from her chest was suddenly gone, and she sucked in much needed air as she scrambled to get off of the muddy ground and into a standing position. She ignored the pain in her face and hands and stared at the scene before her.

Hagrid must not have been as far away as either girl thought, because he current had his thick arms wrapped around Bellatrix’s slim waist. A sight that Hermione knew she would think back to often was Bellatrix wildly struggling to escape the firm hold Hagrid had on her, her body tucked tight against his while she flailed her legs to escape. There was nothing elegant or poised about the rich witch in that moment, her hair more tangled than Hermione had ever seen it, and blood trailing from her nose and mouth as she bucked against the man in a last ditched effort to continue the fight with Hermione. She was too lost in rage and bloodlust to process the fact that they had been caught, and would definitely be receiving another severe punishment for fighting _after_ they had been sent to detention for fighting the first time.

The more wild part of Hermione couldn’t find it in herself to care about whatever stern talk they’d receive from Slughorn, even though she was silently glad McGonagall was not her head of house this time, and dragged the back of her hand across her mouth. It came back in a smear of red, and her nose ached when she prodded it, but she could breathe well enough through it, so she knew Bellatrix couldn’t have broken it.

It was... _exhilarating_ to fight like that. It had felt so primal to roll around on the ground exchanging blows and insults every chance they got, and despite the throbbing pain throughout her face, despite that it was with Bellatrix, Hermione had almost enjoyed it. She definitely enjoyed the uninterrupted view of Bellatrix’s pale legs as they continued their determined job of kicking out at Hagrid. In the moonlight, she could just make out the blood sliding down skin and the crescent indentations from her nails. 

Bellatrix, still screaming as Hagrid kept her pinned, did not seem to have liked it as much.

Good.

Hagrid looked as furious as Hermione had seen him for some time as he yelled detention was finished. He refused to set Bellatrix back on the ground as she was yet to stop those terrible, high pitched screams, and so threw her over her shoulder and told Hermione to start walking back to the castle so he could let the head of house deal with them once more.

When the three of them did finally reach the man’s office, displeased was not quite the proper word to describe the look he gave the two of them. Though Hagrid did explain the fight he interrupted, words most likely weren’t required to justify their sudden arrival at his office, given the state of both girls, and the fact that Bellatrix was still trapped by Hagrid’s large hands. 

She’d finally stopped that horrendous screeching during their walk over, thank god, as Hermione was about to say to hell with any remaining rules she _hadn’t_ broken, and hex the girl into silence. The hair-raising noises had Hermione tensed the entire time, her ears feeling near bleeding from the constant abuse. But went they reached the empty hallways of the school, the shrieks had shifted into promises of severe repercussions from her family if Hagrid didn’t drop her. 

The threats were so much like Draco’s famous and well used ‘ _wait til my father hears about this_ ’ that Hermione couldn’t help but laugh out loud. 

Bellatrix had not reacted well to being laughed at, and Hagrid had to hold her tighter after that. He only lightly dropped her once Slughorn opened the door, but kept himself firmly between both students. 

The two of them were definitely something to behold, both dirt stained and covered in blood, and Slughorn only let out a tired sigh before ushering them both into his office, thanking Hagrid for bringing them before the half-giant went on his way. 

When Hermione and Bellatrix had been properly scolded nearly an hour later, Bellatrix did not hesitate to stomp off, most likely to any place that Hermione would not be. Just when the brunette gave her head of house one more embarrassed and ashamed nod, she turned to leave, only to be stopped by Slughorn. 

“Miss Potter?” He called when she had nearly reached the door to his office. Her whole body ached, and she wanted nothing more than to rinse her mouth out from the blood still coating it, as well as see if she couldn’t do some spell to stop the swelling in her cheek and eye. Already she could feel it puffed up, and each twitch of her face sent a new lace of pain through her head. “If you wouldn’t mind staying another minute, please.” 

“Uh, of course, professor,” she mumbled, and forced herself to take steady steps back to his desk. She felt unsettled around him now, much too mortified by her actions and his stern speech about said actions to be able to comfortably be around him much more. There was no way he was inviting her into the Slugclub now. She’d just have to find some other way to gain Bellatrix’s respect. Not that she already made that as impossible as could be, what with their constant assaults of one another. 

“I’ve spoken to your professors this term, and they’ve nothing but terrific things to say about you.” 

“Oh, well- thank you. I enjoy all of my classes.” 

“Yes, I’m sure you do. As I said during our first meeting, you seemed like a very promising student then, and you are still one now.” He gave her a short smile as he leaned against his desk, the action rumpling his orange and grey blazer slightly. “Your skills are rivaled by none other than Bellatrix Black herself. Both of you are very talented witches, and both have the ability to do great things. Perhaps if you both stopped letting your temper get the best of you, you would be able to see that.” 

Well, there wasn’t much Hermione could say to that. 

He seemed to understand that as well, as he gave her one more nod and pointed to the door. “It’s after curfew, Hermione, you should return to your dorm. I hope to see a change of attitude after our conversation tonight.” 

Hermione couldn’t say thank you quick enough before she bolted from the room and headed straight for the dorms. 

* * *

September had flew by in the blink of an eye, most of the students focused on settling into their classes and routines, and catching the early season Quidditch matches. After nearly a month in Slytherin house, even Hermione couldn’t deny she was enthused over their current leads in wins. Gryffindor wasn’t too far behind, and the standings would be drastically impacted by the games this weekend as both teams faced each other. 

Over the month, Hermione fell into her role of regular student easier with each passing day. Her and Andromeda became nearly inseparable, with Ted and a few others joining them after classes in the court yard or library often, and Hermione was glad to have such nice and inviting people surrounding her. It was more than enough for her to forget her petty rivalry with her friend’s older sister, of which she thankfully had little altercations with since their scolding by Slughorn. 

At least, in terms of physical altercations. The two of them still traded insults anytime they made eye contact, and Hermione wasn’t proud to admit that a decent amount of times she was the one starting it. _Technically_. Bellatrix had this way about her, this certain overly cocky grin she’d send Hermione whenever the two made eye contact, it went right through the brunette. It was the same look Draco had whenever he’d call her a mudblood, or the same twisted glee Bellatrix looked at her with right before she carved the hateful slur into Hermione’s arm. 

Bellatrix knew the look infuriated Hermione, and so she did it often. 

But their violent aggression towards one another had dwindled down, if only because they were never really alone with one another for any argument to escalate. Bellatrix and Narcissa were together more often than not, and when the eldest Black wasn’t with her little sister, Rodolphus was there, always within touching distance of Bellatrix. 

Hermione couldn’t quite figure out why the sight of them together so close always set her teeth on edge. 

But Rodolphus was nearly ever present around Bellatrix, and for some unknown reason had also taken a liking to Hermione. He sat beside her in their shared classes more often than he didn’t, and was always asking if she wanted to join him for a study session in his dorm. By the suggestive raise of his eye, and that slimy grin on his chiseled features, she knew studying was the last thing he wanted. The thought made her gag, and turn him down more times than she could count, and yet he persevered. 

The one and only benefit to Rodolphus’ attention on Hermione was how much it is visibly bothered Bellatrix. She was extra vicious whenever Rodolphus would flirt with Hermione, and would always stalk off to her next course without so much as waiting for her future husband to catch up. For his part, he’d merely laugh like this was all some weird game the three of them were playing together, a promise of seeing Hermione tomorrow always being the last thing he’d say before he too went on his own way. 

That’s how things went for Hermione all of September, her weekends and free afternoons broken up by studying with Andromeda, or having dinner with Amelia and Lilith, or sometimes walking down to Hogsmeade for Honeydukes candy and some more butterbeers. 

She was having a pleasant time at Hogwarts with people who genuinely cared about her, it only made sense that the world made things a bit harder for her. 

Two things happened almost back to back that Hermione could not possibly ignored. The first happened during breakfast, when the morning owls flew in from the high windows to drop off mail as usual. Hermione was focused on her meal, uncaring about the rise in volume as people began excitedly grabbing their letters or packages from loved ones. No one outside of this school knew she existed in this time, so there was no need for her to ever consider she’d get a letter. 

One would think that, given the amount of things that have happened to Hermione and her friends over the years, she would stop being surprised when seemingly absurd things occur. A brown barn owl made a straight bee-line for Hermione, a silvery envelope in its claws, and dropped the thing directly onto her plate. She moved to grab it a second later as everyone else did the same to their own mail. 

Despite the simplistic envelope, the paper was thick and durable, green wax impacted with the Slytherin seal keeping the letter closed. Immediately upon seeing the markings did Hermione know what would be inside without even having the break the seal. Her and Harry’s invites may have been done in person by Slughorn during their sixth year, but it seemed this was his preferred method of invite as she noticed similar letters being opened by a few other students as well. 

_Dear student,  
You have hereby been chosen to join this years dinner party comprised of selective and competitive group of students. Should you continue to reach and surpass the expectations placed upon you, you may find yourself with a coveted invite to the Slugclub. Many a student have come before you, and all have gone on to further their lives through esteemed careers of the highest caliber. Your attendance and participation are required to further your enrollment into such a club. Myself and current members eagerly await your acceptance. _

_Sincerely yours,  
Professor Horace Slughorn _

The letter went on to mention a time and date- five days from now, seven o’clock- as well as a dress code of business casual. The moment Hermione finished reading the paper, a flame formed in the center and slowly spread until the entire message disintegrated. 

All things concerned, Hermione was quite shocked to be invited to join the club. It had been a goal of hers, something she knew would improve her imagine in Bellatrix’s eyes, but that was at the beginning of her time here. When she got to know Bellatrix, it became clear nothing would change how Hermione was viewed, and given that the two fought like cats and dogs whenever they were left in the same vicinity for too long, she couldn’t believe Slughorn was still interested in having her. 

He hadn’t lied when they had their very first conversation together- he had been watching her, and there was not a single chance he was pleased with what she saw. To him, she had to be little more than a temperamental child who struggled with controlling their emotions. Not a person who screamed ‘esteemed’ or ‘goal oriented’. It didn’t matter that that was who she truly was, not this girl who became physical and aggressive over the littlest things. That was just- only Bellatrix could bring that out of her. 

Admittedly, her behavior had improved within recent weeks, and she knew he wasn’t lying when he told her he spoke to her professors. Whatever things they told him, as well as his own observations of her when she wasn’t getting in trouble for fights with Bellatrix, must have been enough to consider her worthy of such an invite. 

“Oh, hey- congrats!” Andromeda watched the letter burn itself up, and Hermione didn't need to wonder how the girl knew it could have been as she said, “Bella got the same thing last year. Professor Slughorn’s group, right?” She didn’t wait for Hermione to confirm or deny, and instead went on to explain the history behind it, how Slughorn started the club years ago, and like the letter said, many doors were opened up after letters of recommendation went out. “He’s one of the few professors Bella actually enjoys, and probably one of the only professors who like Bella for her, and not just because she can answer their questions.” 

Hermione had to agree with her friend there. Whenever he would lecture her and Bellatrix for fighting in the halls, or arguing in class, or the disaster of the Forbidden Forest, he had seemed almost _disappointed_ in Bellatrix, as if such lowly fighting was below her. And Bellatrix almost looked embarrassed, though the emotion never fully presented itself on her perfect face. For all other professors Hermione had seen the girl interact with, it was little more than barely concealed annoyance at them speaking to her. 

For whatever reason, Bellatrix, at least somewhat, enjoyed and respected the Potions Master. Hermione had figured as much during her first conversation with Slughorn, which is why she originally tried so hard for his attention. He had valued Tom Riddle as a student, and had been the only professor the dark wizard respected. She assumed the same would apply for Voldemort’s lieutenant, and had not been incorrect with her guess. 

“Our father made it clear all of us had better get an invitation to join Slughorn’s club when we go into our sixth year,” Andromeda commented off-handedly, but Hermione could easily pick up the underlying tone of annoyance in the statement. She’d known the girl long enough to be able to read her well enough, and would bet she had no interest in joining such a club. “It wasn’t any surprise that Bella got invited. Narcissa will be invited, and she’ll love it- she’s all for dinner parties and galas.” 

“And you?” Hermione asked, already knowing that nothing about a club that prided itself on the power of surnames and a mutual dislike of muggles and muggle-borns would appeal to someone with such a pure soul like Andromeda. 

“Like I said, my father made it clear.” 

Visions of pink scars flashed through Hermione’s mind as they continued their meals, and she found herself thinking more and more of what Cygnus was like as a father. Her interactions with pure-blood fathers were mostly limited to Arthur Weasley and Lucius Malfoy, two drastically differing ends of the parental spectrum, but she would bet everything she had that Andromeda’s father was scaled more towards the latter than Arthur. 

There was no way that Arthur Weasley would have ever raised children who turned out like Bellatrix Black, of that she was absolutely sure. 

But still, Hermione wanted to know more about their father, and so asked, “What would happen if you didn't? Join the club, that is?” 

Andromeda shrugged, but Hermione didn’t miss the quick look she sent in her sisters’ directions, both of them too busy in a conversation with one another to hear what Hermione and Andromeda were talking about. 

“Cygnus Black had his children's lives planned out long before any of us were born. His disappointment at having all girls was insurmountable, believe me.” Though she spoke so plainly, her opinions on that fact were loud and clear, but she forced herself to smile at Hermione and continue. “He wanted sons, like every pure-blooded man. Or, at least, a first born son. Instead, he got....” she trailed off with a look at her dark haired sister, a quick look of- regret?- flashing too fast across her face for Hermione to truly pick it up. “His plans might have had to be changed slightly after all of us were born, but the expectations he placed upon us have not. And trust me, not even Bella is masochistic enough to really ignore what he wants.” 

The fifth year was done talking about her father after that, and went to silently finishing her meal. Breakfast was a much more quiet affair after that, and those pictures of scars littering pale and tone thighs was seemingly permanently etched into Hermione’s mind. 

* * *

The second, and infinitely more important, thing came much later in the day, when Hermione was nearly finished with her last class and wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of the day in the library. It seemed that was not in the cards for her, as a letter arrived in the middle of school for the professor, who read through it quickly and announced that Hermione was being summoned to the headmaster’s office for a meeting. 

It wasn’t such a long walk from her class to the office, but the entire time her mind raced with what this could be about. Surely it couldn’t be in regards to her interactions with Bellatrix, as for the most part those have ended, and wouldn’t Dumbledore have brought her in sooner to discuss that? 

They hadn’t interacted at all since her first night here, when she got the distinct impression he knew more about her purpose than he was letting on. She’d tried to avoid him after that, as much as possible. What was she even to say if it did get brought up? _Well, you see, professor.... I’m actually from thirty years in the future. I’m here because one of your students is a powerful and terrifying Death Eater hellbent on causing destruction to the Wizarding world, all because she’s obsessed with_ another _one of your old students who wants to see all muggles and muggle-borns perish? Oh, and by the way, one of your own professors is going to kill you during that time, so heads up?_ She sounded insane even in her own head. Some part of her whispered that Dumbledore would believe everything she told him. 

Her time to worry and fret was over far too quickly when she came upon the gargoyle leading to the office, and she whispered the password she’d been told to use. The statue spun for a moment, twisting and moving until stairs formed, and she hesitated only a moment before she sucked in a deep breath and marched up the stairs. 

Her headmaster was sat at his desk, the furniture as messy and unorganized as ever before, a small tray of desserts and candies off to one side while he shuffled through some of the papers. At the sound of her entrance, he looked up. 

“You wanted to see me, Headmaster?” Even to her own ears her voice sounded nervous, her throat much too dry right now. 

“Hermione, please, take a seat. Pumpkin pastry?” Dumbledore held up a platter of the delectable treats, to which Hermione shook her head and sat in the offered chair. Her heart was beating erratically, and the side of her that was focused entirely on academic success feared this was the moment she would be expelled for fighting, even if, logically, she knew that would not be the case. “How has your first month been here at Hogwarts?” 

Her pulse eased a bit at that. Maybe he just wanted to check in with her classes. After all, it wasn’t often that Hogwarts received transfers, and never ones in their last year. He could just be worried about her adjustment. “Lovely, professor. I’ve been enjoying all of my classes this term.” 

Dumbledore nodded and took one of the pastries for himself as he leaned back in his own chair, a thoughtful look in his eyes as he stared at Hermione. “Are you missing your old friends?” 

_More than you could ever believe_ , she thought sadly. In all her time of knowing them, she’d only been away from Ron and Harry this long during summer holidays, and even then they’d been able to communicate through letters, until they all started spending that time at the Burrow. It hurt more than she imagined possible to not be able to see and talk to them every day. “I had a few close friends back at Durmstrang, but I’ve made new ones here and-” 

“I believe it is safe to assume we both know I am not talking about Durmstrang, Hermione Potter.” The say he said her last name, combined with the knowing glint in his eyes, and the steady way he held her gaze, had her already fast heart beat pick up in pace. Why couldn’t she ever be lucky, and for just once have someone just want to talk about school? “I do not believe it was intended for you to spend your time here squabbling with Bellatrix Black, now was it?”

She opened her mouth to respond, to say _something_ , deny it maybe, and then promptly cut herself off. This was Dumbledore sat in front of her, a man who always knew more than anyone should be capable of knowing.

“Hermione, you truly are the brightest witch of your time.” She would have preened at the comment, at the recognition of her skills and dedication to course work, of her commitment to mastering spells and potions, had his next statement not had her freeze entirely. “And Bellatrix is the brightest witch of her’s.” 

It was all the official confirmation Hermione would ever need to know that Dumbledore knew she was not from this time. What was a too fast heart stopped completely, as did her breath get lodged in her throat. It seemed her mind couldn’t decide if she should panic or feel relieved that someone knew such a vital secret. 

Dumbledore didn’t seem to care that he had thrown her entire world off its axis as he continued talking, his tone never changing from that calm and reflective octave he always spoke in. “Voldemort’s power grows every day, of that I am sure. No, don’t confirm or deny anything, I must live this time as it is intended to play out. Remember, you are not here to change the past, but to change your future.”

“What-” 

“I fear Bellatrix is going down the wrong path, and the longer she continues the worse it will become. You cannot allow her to do this, Hermione, you mustn’t. Do you understand? No matter what is to come, you must prevent Bellatrix Black from becoming a Death Eater.” 

Hermione’s mouth opened and then slammed shut as any and all words escaped her. For the first time since she could remember, she was truly and utterly speechless.

“While I admit, Bellatrix is not the easiest student to get along with, you must persevere, do you understand? Every instance the two of you argue, for every spell you throw at one another, that just forces you a part that much more. It must end, Hermione.” He gave a pointed look to her arm, covered by a long sleeve and the glamour firmly in place. “She may hurt you beyond reason, but your original goal cannot falter.” 

“I don’t think I can do this, Professor. Bellatrix is beyond-” 

“I once brought a young man to this castle, someone who goes by a name you are well familiar with, I assume. I naively believed him to be redeemable. It was my mistake, as when I looked at him for the first time in the muggle orphanage, I saw a child in need, and nothing of the tragedy he will one day bring the Wizarding World. I believed Tom to be savable, to be crafted in one of the strongest wizards of his time. And, indeed he did become so, though in a much more darker sense.” 

“Bellatrix is just like Vold-” 

“The Bellatrix you know, perhaps that is true. A witch of such skill level must look deep within herself to decide in which way she would use her powers, and Bellatrix eventually will make the wrong choice. But, unlike Tom Riddle, Bellatrix Black is not beyond redemption, Hermione.” 

“You don’t know what she’s capable of, the things she will one day do.” 

“I do not, and you cannot tell me. However, I do know the student who currently walks these halls, a student who has love in her heart for her sisters and passion and skill for Quidditch.” Hermione couldn’t help but think back to watching the witch play the sport, how wild she had looked sat upon her broom, and how wickedly pleased an expression she had whenever their house scored. Right then, there was none of the future Death Eater, and all of a young girl enjoying a hard match. It was the same expression Hermione saw she would have when she figured out a particularly challenging potion, or correctly answered a question in class meant to intentionally confuse them. In those moments she was just a girl in school, a young teenager who refused to accept her place in life quietly, who was as determined as Hermione herself to do something spectacular with her life.

Her headmaster wasn’t done, it seemed, as he continued to talk about Bellatrix. “Is it truly her crime to pay for being born into such a family? The Blacks- they are a... extremists do not do them justice. But you look at Andromeda and see a friend, despite her ties to such a family.” 

“Andromeda is a good person, professor. She is nice, and kind, and-” 

“Is Bellatrix not kind to her sisters?” 

Instances of Bellatrix’s playful tone when she messed with Andromeda, or the amused sigh she’d give to Narcissa when the younger girl tried to keep her line raced through Hermione’s mind. Of a day at Hogsmeade, when Bellatrix had painfully reminded Rabastan Lestrange that her sister was not someone to be made fun of or mocked, for any reason. While Hermione wouldn’t go as far as to say Bellatrix was completely _kind_ to her sisters, it was undeniable that Andromeda and Narcissa were important to her. Perhaps the most important people in her life right now. 

“I think you are allowing your distrust of her to cloud what is so very clear, Hermione. Bellatrix can be saved, if only the person knows the right way to go about it. It will not be easy, and there will be many tribulations, but you cannot give up.” Dumbledore’s tone turned from reflective to serious, the kind that said whatever was about to come out of his mouth next was something that, no matter how terrible it may end up being, needed to be listened to and followed. “It is of the utmost importance you shift Bellatrix’s path before Christmas.” 

“Christmas? What happens at Christmas?” There were so many things that could happen at Christmas. Is that when she becomes initiated as a Death Eater? First meets Voldemort? Makes her first kill? There was an endless list of possibilities for what she would need to stop, but nothing was more clear than the fact that somehow, someway, Hermione needed to befriend the dark witch. 

“Bellatrix will be faced with a very terrible choice, during which if she completes it, her fate will be sealed, and nothing you can do can change it. You still have a time to gain her trust and friendship. Do not waste it.” 

When it became obvious Hermione had little more to contribute to this conversation, Dumbledore gave her a sad nod and sent her on her way. “You may go, Hermione Potter.”

She was starting to have a new found appreciation for all the truly questionable situations Dumbledore put Harry in during his time here. 


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a kind reader pointed out an inconsistency in this chapter with Hermione's wand, so I added two sentences to fix that, but nothing else changed, sorry about that!

Hermione let out a loud gasp when her body collided painfully against the cool floor below, but it was nothing compared to the sensation of the warm body completely enveloping her front.

She could focus on nothing else but the woman atop her, or the hot breath hitting her lips, the girl's mouth so close to her own. There was no else around them, no one who could possibly interrupt or stop them and-

Hermione let out a loud gasp, her attention wholly on the pain in her arm as Bellatrix dug that knife into her forearm, over and over and over again. She screamed then, when the older woman forced the knife in particularly deep on one spot, and Hermione could feel the sensation of the knife twisting, curving across her skin as Bellatrix carved out letter after letter.

 _Mudblood_.

It was the most excruciating pain Hermione had ever felt, and hot tears flowed continuously from her closed eyes. No amount of begging, no amount of insisting they were no where near Gringotts could save her. Bellatrix was in a frenzy, dead set on getting every last piece of information Hermione had. And she'd tell her, she'd tell her everything right in that moment, if only to stop the pain. Even for a second. Hermione just needed to breathe, to stop screaming and catch her breath.

Bellatrix would not relent. For each finished letter, each terrified sob Hermione let out, the woman only cackled louder. She was relishing in this torture. What felt like hours later, but Hermione knew it could have only been minutes, Bellatrix stood up, the knife nowhere to be seen as Hermione stared at her blood starting to stain the floor, dripping from each crudely designed cut.

 _Mudblood_.

"I'll ask again, muddy," Bellatrix said in that high pitched, overly babyish tone, crouching down so she could look Hermione directly in the eyes. " _How did you get into my vault._ "

"We... we didn't! We-"

There was no time to prepare herself as, much too quickly than a human had a right to be, Bellatrix had stood, jerked out her wand, and uttered one of the last things Hermione ever wanted to hear directed towards her unprotected body.

" _Crucio_!"

A scream was just barely silenced when Hermione gasped awake, her hand immediately slamming down against her arm. The scar felt as if it were on fire, the pain immeasurable once more as she sucked in much needed air. Sweat had her hair sticking to her forehead and the back of her neck, as did part of her sleep shirt to her back. She needed water, and fresh air, and to just be away from this dorm room. It looked nothing like Malfoy Manor and yet each time she looked at the night darkened walls, she couldn't help but picture herself pinned to the polished tiles.

She stumbled from her bed, not caring about any noise that might wake up one of the other girls. Her pajamas stuck to her body with each movement, but she couldn't force herself to care enough as she left the dorm room, desperate for some sort of distraction. Part of her mind still screamed at her that she was back in the Manor tortured by the very girl she had sworn to save.

Slytherin common rooms never ceased to leave her in awe of its designs each time she saw it, but she did have to admit there was no better view of the room than now, when the moon was high in the sky and the Black Lake cast an eery glow throughout the spacious area. It made it all the better that the room was empty, not another soul-living or ghost- making an appearance as she walked towards the window.

They had to be as far underground as possible- without using the Chamber of Secrets or Underground Chambers. It was a striking difference to Gryffindor's dormitories and common rooms, situated high in the towers. If she were being honest with herself, she couldn't quite decide which view she enjoyed more. The sprawling view of the castle grounds was the tower was always breathtaking, but there was something... darkly appealing about the depthless and violent water before her.

She wasn't too sure how long she sat on the cushioned bench below the window, staring at nothing in particular. Maybe if she stared long enough something would swim by- a mermaid, perhaps? Hermione wasn't under any inclination to see one of those vicious and cannibalistic creatures, but a few fish would be nice, or even the giant squid.

It wasn't until her heart finally stopped its extreme and without patterned beat did she feel herself start to relax. The nightmare had been unexpected, but her reaction to it justified. She hadn't really had any opportunity to truly process the torture and branding she had received at the hands of Bellatrix. Aside from Harry and Ron making sure she was okay- or as okay as could be expected- there was no time to let it consume her. They had too much to accomplish before Voldemort tried to kill them again. And when she finally did have a moment, even a fraction of a second, to possibly reflect on it, McGonagall had called her into her office and presented her with this horrid task.

She wasn't meant for this kind of job. Harry was the one who did the things, not her. It was her job to come up with the spells needed to get them all out of hairy situations, or enact half thought out plans that would most likely kill them- like hopping on the back of a dragon. That is what she was good at. The planning, the thinking, the assessing. Not... not this, not the action.

Everything was wholly, desperately, terribly, drowning her. And she could do nothing but watch, almost as an out of body experience, as she started to flounder.

The sound of footsteps behind Hermione had her spinning around. With a muffled curse she realized she had been too distracted with the nightmare to remember to grab her wand. Stupid, so bloody stupid-

Without torches lit, the only light came from that of the water, and it left most of the room in shadows, making the intruder invisible. It wasn't until the well known sound of a groan told Hermione it wasn't a stranger breaking into the castle once more, but that did nothing to calm her panic. All that meant was she was potentially going against Bellatrix without a wand.

"Must you be _everywhere_ , rat?" Bellatrix growled, her body still concealed in the darkened corner of the room.

"Must you call me rat?" Hermione snapped. Being near the person who so visibly haunted her memories was the last thing she needed right now, but she refused to show fear in front of Bellatrix by running back to her bed. "How does that even make sense to you?"

She couldn't see it, but Hermione would have bet money in that moment that Bellatrix did that annoying shrug that always worked to piss Hermione off more. "Are you not vermin? Dirt beneath my shoes? I call you rat because that is what you are, rat." There was no sound except Hermione's ragged breathing and Bellatrix's heels clicking against the ground as she moved closer.

Where had she been? What could she have possibly been getting up to in the middle of the night? And how had she not gotten caught sneaking back in? Surely at least one of the ghosts would have seen her, or one of the pictures not yet asleep.

In what seemed like only a few short steps, Bellatrix was much too close to Hermione. With the improved lightly, Hermione was able to see the girl's features completely now. She was dressed more simply than Hermione thought she had ever seen her, just a simple black dress that nearly touched the floor, with long sleeves that ended in a point around her middle fingers. The dress covered up the heels, but Bellatrix was never not in them. She was so... flawless didn't seem to be adequate enough, and-

There was blood on her face.

Only a little bit, just in the corner of her mouth, she could tell it seemed quite swollen. When she looked further down, there was evident red and purple bruising on her wrists and upper arms.

Now that Hermione thought about it, she hadn't seen the other girl since dinner, and even then she had left early, not saying a word to anyone as she stood up and left the Great Hall. Hermione hadn't paid it much attention, but now, this combined with the odd look she had seen Narcissa and Andromeda give one another, told her something was going on. Something that resulted in Bellatrix being bruised and bloody. Someone had done this. The same person who gave her the scars?

"You're bleeding," Hermione said after the silence stretched on for too long. And so she watched, almost entirely transfixed, as Bellatrix's tongue darted out to lick the blood lining her lip.

"I don't see how a blood-traitor needs to concern herself with my life," Bellatrix snapped, but the words were hollow, and sounded exhausted. Everything about the witch screamed bone tired, from the way she was currently holding herself to the way she favored her right side.

Hermione had never been one to question or curse Professor Minerva McGonagall, but a few choice words were definitely going through her head right now. Why did it have to be her who did this? Harry was friendly, maybe they could have bonded over their shared enjoyment in Quidditch. Both were jock enough to have some sort of mutual interests. But she knew Harry wouldn't have been able to get over her murdering Sirius, or Dobby, or her just general terrible personality. Ron definitely wouldn't have given her a single chance for redemption.

She also doubted the boys, for all their strengths and smarts, would notice what was so vividly clear to Hermione. Bellatrix was being abused by someone, and for all her wickedness, at the very end of it she was still nothing more than a seventeen year old in pain.

"No response? Surely you have more fight in you than that. The bruises you left on my face certainly said so." Indeed, Bellatrix had not walked away from their scuffle in the Forbidden Forest weeks ago unscathed. Her cheek had been badly bruised, her lip nearly as swollen as Hermione's. Where Hermione had used a glamour to cover the markings on her own body, Bellatrix had not bothered with such spells. No one dared question where the injuries had come from, though whispers followed the girl for the first few days, until the bruises faded to ugly yellow and greens, and her split lip closed up.

Somehow, seeing the new bruises on her was more vulgar than the ones long since gone.

"Have you suddenly lost your tongue?" Bellatrix was not someone who fancied being ignored, it seemed, even if the person ignoring her was Hermione. "Or is your silence a way to show respect to your betters? About time, really."

"Do you ever stop talking?" Hermione hissed, her face red with annoyance as she stared the girl down. "You must love the sound of your own voice."

" _You_ -"

The pity at seeing Bellatrix hurt was very short lived. "Rabble, blood-traitor, rat, yes, you aren't very creative with your insults." Hermione blamed it on the nightmare, on the throbbing in her arm, but she was feeling more hostile than usual, and in even less of a mood to take Bellatrix's insults right now, the girl's injuries aside. But... Hermione wouldn't be Hermione if she ignored someone so blatantly suffering, so she sighed and said, "Do you want help healing them?"

Bellatrix jerked back as if physically hurt, her eyes wild and a scowl in place as she glared at Hermione. "Why would you help me?"

"Because believe it or not, you idiot, I don't enjoy seeing people in pain, even if that person is you," Hermione snapped back. "If you want my help sit down and shut up. If you don't I'm going back to bed." Not like she imagined she'd get any solid amount of sleep, but it was better than nothing.

It was quiet for an uncomfortably long time, and Hermione moved to head back to their dorm when she heard Bellatrix groan. "Fine," the girl snapped, and threw herself down onto one of the cushy couches. "Be quick about it.""Give me a moment to grab my wand," Hermione said as she quickly retreated back to her bed. She pointedly ignored Bellatrix's comment of "A _smart_ witch would always have it on her," and ducked into the room to grab it off of her end table. When she returned to the common room, the dark witch was in the same tensed position on the couch, her full lips pulled into a frown as she poked delicately at the cut. Hermione slowed her steps to stand before Bellatrix

"Give me a moment to grab my wand," Hermione said as she retreated back to her bed. She pointedly ignored Bellatrix's comment of "A _smart_ witch would always have it on her," and ducked into the room to grab it off of her end table. When she returned to the common room, the dark witch was in the same tensed position on the couch, her full lips pulled into a frown as she poked delicately at the cut. Hermione slowed her steps to stand before Bellatrix, her wand out but lowered. Neither girl said anything for a moment, and it wasn't until Hermione leveled the wand to Bellatrix's mouth did the girl react. She reached out far quicker than should be possible and gripped the tip of the wand, her grip firm enough to stop Hermione from waving it in the required pattern.

"You better not do anything stupid, rat," Bellatrix growled out, bold as ever in the face of possible danger.

"I'm trying to help you. Are you truly that inept to not realize it?"

Bellatrix scowled but released her hold on the wand as she shifted to sit straight back and stiff, her dark eyes locked completely onto Hermione's brown ones. Hermione wasted no more time before moving her wand and firmly saying "Episky," and watched the small wound on Bellatrix's mouth slowly heal over. The blood remained staining her skin, and a "Tergeo" later had that soaking back into her skin as well, until her face was as perfect and clear as ever.

That left only the bruises, but Bellatrix jerked into a standing position before Hermione could take care of that. "I'm done," she snapped, and all but shoved Hermione away as she stomped to the dorm room.

"You're welcome!" Hermione yelled at the girl's retreating back, surprised to receive no sort of response in return. She watched until Bellatrix moved from view and into the room.

As Hermione stared at the now empty space, she couldn't help but think what the hell just happened? From the girl's sudden appearance in the common room in the middle of the night, to her bruised and battered body, to her acceptance of Hermione's help, and finally her abrupt departure. None of it made sense, and Hermione resigned herself to the fact that she most likely wasn't going to get answers anytime soon, if at all.

She remained in the common room for almost another hour, her mind too active to even attempt sleep. It wasn't until her eyelids became heavy and her body lethargic did she start a slow shuffle back to her bed. Once she was in the room, she gave a long look to the bed she knew belonged to Bellatrix, the curtains pulled closed and no sounds of life coming from within.

With a decent amount of effort Hermione turned her gaze from Bellatrix's bed to her own, and laid down on the warm green comforter, her body still too overheated to get underneath.

Sleep did not come easily once Hermione finally made it back to bed, and in only a few short hours she was awake once more, her body exhausted and heavy as she stood up. Every other bed but one was still occupied, all their curtains still pulled tightly closed to block out the morning light.

What could Bellatrix possibly be doing so early in the morning, especially when she was known for sleeping well into the late morning. It was practically unheard of for the dark witch to be awake so early, and that thought had Hermione fully conscious in an instant.

What was going on?

She had only just left the dorm room when she picked out the telltale sounds of two people having a conversation. Their voices were unmistakable, both of which Hermione was quite familiar with, but only one she actually enjoyed hearing. She stopped walking at once, keeping herself pressed to the doorframe of the dorms to remain out of sight. It was terrible to eavesdrop, but maybe the two sisters would talk about something important? Something Hermione could use to get closer to Bellatrix.

Andromeda's voice reached her first. "I don't listen to you, Bella." She sounded angrier than Hermione thought she'd ever heard, angrier even than when her and her sister screamed at one another on the Quidditch field during that first match. "I'll surround myself with whoever I want."

"I'd prefer your friendship to the mudblood boy over this," Bellatrix hissed back, her voice just as enraged as her sister's. Mudblood boy, Hermione cringed at the insult, heard much too soon after her nightmare, had to refer to Ted Tonks. But who did Bellatrix hate more than a muggle-born?

"She's my friend. Just because she's the one person who refuses to bow down to you doesn't mean I have to stay away from her."

Ah. Hermione is quite certain now who is worse than a muggle-born.

"She's lowly, and beneath you, and brings nothing to your friendship. I demand you stop talking to her at once."

Their interactions the night before must truly have gotten to the oldest witch then, if she was so blatantly demanding her sister stop talking to Hermione.

"Beneath- Bellatrix, do you hear yourself? I am friends with her because I like her. I know that's an insane concept for you to understand, but Hermione is my friend. And I think if the two of you stopped screaming at one another every time you're within fifteen feet of each other, you'd like her too."

Hermione could hear a scoff, one she bet came from the eldest Black, and rolled her eyes. It was doubtful the two would ever be friends, as much as the world was now demanding on that to become a reality. Even when Hermione is nice to Bellatrix, the girl can't respond properly. Last night taught her that.

It also taught her someone was abusing Bellatrix. She already figured as much, but this was further confirmed that the abuse was ongoing. Now she just needed to figure out who would do such a thing.

"As if I'd ever debase myself with someone so-"

"Do you really believe I'm going to stand here and listen to you insult my friend?"

There was a shuffling noise then, and a screech that sounded like furniture being dragged against the floor, and then a pained hiss from Bellatrix. A minute later, the sound of two bodies slamming into the floor sounded. Maybe it was time for Hermione to make her presence known, if the two girls had resorted to another physical altercation.

Just when Hermione was going to announce herself, a third voice she hadn't been able to tell was in the room sounded. Narcissa must have been staying silent to watch her sisters argue, and decided now was the time to intervene.

"You're both idiotic," the youngest declared, and for another minute there was only the sounds of bodies slamming together. Hermione could picture Narcissa trying to yank whichever girl was on top off of the other. She must have succeeded, because the noises ended. "Bella, you don't get to demand Andy not be friends with someone because you hate them. Andy- why are you like this?"

Andromeda made an affronted noise at her sister, and they must have been talking too lowly for Hermione to hear, as the next noises to reach her was the sound of the brick wall sliding open and heels clicking against the ground. Narcissa or Bellatrix, Hermione couldn't be sure. There was no time to question it more though, as someone came into view in the hall, and stopped dead when she discovered Hermione.

"You heard, huh?" Andromeda sighed, her hair disheveled and her robes displaced, but otherwise unmarred.

"A bit," Hermione replied, unsure what she should let her friend know she heard. "Bellatrix and I ran into one another last night, and... it didn't go well."

"That must be why she dragged me out of bed so early and so pissed off. Thanks for that," Andromeda laughed and walked to stand beside Hermione. "You owe me for that then. C'mon, I'm hungry."

Though Hermione quietly followed her friend, there were more questions floating in her head than ever before.

Nothing made sense anymore.

* * *

Today was the day of Slughorn's dinner party, and Hermione found herself worrying all throughout her classes. She was distracted to the point that McGonagall asked her to stay a moment after when she failed to answer three questions in a row. She hadn't even raised her hand, and needed the professor to repeat herself before Hermione could even formulate a response- and once her answer was incorrect.

"You aren't yourself today, Miss Potter," McGonagall said once the rest of the class had dispersed. Hermione didn't miss the way Rodolphus threw his arm around Bellatrix's shoulders, or the way the girl violently shrugged the appendage off as they walked away. "Something on your mind you'd wish to talk about? I could summon Professor Slughorn- if you'd prefer your head of house."

Hermione gave a tired smile, her mind else as she pondered what tonight would bring. She's been through this party before, had impressed Slughorn enough to invited to the much more prestigious and formal party when she'd had to fight off Cormac McLaggen the entire night.

No, impressing Slughorn had nothing to do with it. She knew that, her fights with Bellatrix aside, her intelligence and dedication to academics was more than enough for the man. What was the primary stressor for her right now was the questions he would ask.

Slughorn valued parental accomplishments, that much was very clear. Most students originally invited to the club were due to what their parents did for a living, or spells or potions they had invented. Ultimately, the student them self was the final deciding factor on if they proceeded into the club or not, but what their parents did played a key role in Slughorn's opinion of them.

Once before Hermione had proudly stated her parents were dentists, and Slughorn was intrigued only in the sense that it was an occupation he had never heard of before, but after it became clear it wasn't a highly interesting career, he quickly moved on. That was fine. Hermione had never been ashamed of her parents jobs, nor would she ever be ashamed of her blood status.

But in this situation?

No one could know Hermione was lying for every single thing about herself.

If someone found out about her heritage, it would ruin everything.

And so Hermione was stressing herself out over the possible lies she needed to come up when Slughorn asked about her family. Too bad she couldn't tell McGonagall any of that.

"I'm okay, Professor, just exhausted. I, uh, was sick most of last night so I didn't sleep well." Part of Hermione felt bad about not being honest to McGonagall of all people, and she had to keep reminding herself that in this world, McGonagall was not her head of house, and- most vitally- she did not know Hermione's purpose here.

McGonagall eyed her critically for a moment before she sighed in acceptance. "Perhaps you should visit the hospital wing if you continue feeling unwell." And then, after a moment of consideration, she offered, "If you do want some time to rest, I could write you an excuse for the rest of your courses today. You're a top student, Miss Potter, but even you need time to recuperate."

Hermione considered it for only a second before shaking her head. There wouldn't be a single part of her able to comfortably rest with a quiet mind if she knew she was missing lectures. It didn't matter that she was ahead of the class. "I appreciate it, professor, but I really shouldn't miss my classes. Anyway, it'll be a good distraction from thinking about Professor Slughorn's dinner party tonight."

"I am not surprised in the least that you have been invited to that club," her professor said fondly. "Professor Slughorn never as anything but praise for you." Then her gaze turned more stern when she added, "Your altercations with Miss Black notwithstanding."

Immediately, Hermione felt her cheeks get heated as a blush overtook her. Slughorn scolding her- she could handle that. Even Dumbledore was manageable, but McGonagall? It was like hearing a parent say they were disappointed- something Hermione had never experienced.

"I... do apologize, Professor, we just, uh-" her blush only worsened the more she continued to stutter out a terrible apology.

"No need to apologize, child," McGonagall amended with a wave of her hand. "You're both headstrong and passionate- two personalities bound to clash. You'd be wise to stop doing so so literally. It would be a true tragedy to lose such a promising witch over petty arguments."

This conversation was doing nothing to make Hermione feel better.

McGonagall continued, either not noticing or not giving any attention to the embarrassed look on Hermione's face. "I have known Bellatrix Black for the entirety of her time here at Hogwarts, and have been privy to watching her slowly grow into the person she would become. A bit misplaced, if you asked me, but promising just the same as you." A beat of silence, and then, "There is as much potential in her as there is in you, Miss Potter, and I do not say those words lightly, believe me."

Not really what Hermione wanted to hear. Though this conversation was proving to be a good distraction from her stress over the party tonight.

That is, until, McGonagall dismissed her to finish out the rest of her day, and wished her luck with Slughorn. The added, "Not that I think you need it," did not comfort her like it normally would have.

* * *

The halls were mostly empty when Hermione walked to Slughorn's office, only a few older students clumped together here or there in small groups. Some she recognized, all seventh years who gave her nods as she passed, but did eye her attire curiously. She couldn't blame them really- the usual school robes were replaced with a light purple button down, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and a pair of tight fitting dress pants paired with black boots. It was all borrowed from Andromeda, who took great pleasure in dressing Hermione up for the night.

Her wretched sisters were nowhere to be found the whole time, something Hermione was infinitely grateful for. She wasn't in the right mindset to be forced under Narcissa's fierce glare, or worse- having to listen Bellatrix pick apart every little thing wrong with Hermione's outfit. The only thing relatively keeping her nerves in tack right now was the fact that Bellatrix wouldn't be at this party.

It was a way for Slughorn to get to know students not yet in his club, people he was still deciding if they were worth it or not to become members. Therefore, there was no reason at all for Bellatrix to be at this event.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione was thoroughly proven wrong.

She'd spent the first few minutes after her arrival conversing with some other students, surprised to see a nearly equal representation from all the houses. Her last time here, the majority had been Slytherin and Gryffindor, with only a few Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws present. One of the people she talked to was the same boy Bellatrix had knocked off his broom during their first Quidditch match against Gryffindor, another seventh year with sandy colored hair and an easy going smile. His name was Daniel, and the two of them were quick to enter into a light hearted debated about whether salamander or Moke blood was better suited for potions aimed at treating burns.

She had been so invested in the conversation that it took her a moment to notice as the room began filling up with more arrivals. But the moment she saw dark and wild hair, all of her attention zoned onto one person while Daniel continued to defend his position.

The invite said business casual, and all others followed that- girls were mostly in skirts or blouses, or a few like Hermione had gone with fitted dark pants, and all of the guys were either in black pants or khakis paired with a button down. Everyone looked nice, but it did look more like a company work meeting than a dinner party.

As always, Bellatrix Black was not one to blend in.

Not only was Hermione surprised to find the other girl at the event, but her attire was what truly garnered Hermione's attention. As it did to practically everyone else in the room as well. Bellatrix looked so... _stupendous, exquisite, breathtaking_ were just some of the words racing through Hermione's mind.

The eldest Black daughter was clad in a red dress so dark it could have been black, the color only just noticeable when it glittered from the candlelight, and it seemed to be made more of lace than anything else. Only her back was a solid strip of fabric, curling over her shoulders and partially down her arms before tapering out to the intricately placed webbed pattern. Her chest was on display thanks to the tightly wound corset she always wore, and her legs were mostly visible from mid thigh down, as the dress once more shifted from the solid dark coloring to a combination of sheer and lace interwoven.

And none of that even took into consideration her _hair_.

If Hermione hadn't been threatened with a hairbrush all those weeks ago, she would have remained under the impression Bellatrix had never once attempted to control such a mess of curls. Tonight would have proven that thought incorrect. Bellatrix wore her hair braided for Quidditch games, and while the style was nice and convenient, it was simplistic.

Her braids tonight were not simplistic in the slightest.

Bellatrix's hair had always been thick, a fact that most likely came in handy when creating so many braids of varying sizes. The dark locks were all pushed to the right side of her head, most of the hair taken up by one large braid that began forming just below her jaw. Her bangs were kept contained by another braid, starting from the opposite side of her head, moving across the top, and down to join the biggest one, while a few other smaller pieces tied everything together. It must have taken hours to finish, even with the use of magic and most definitely Narcissa's help.

"Whoa," Hermione barely hard Daniel choke out as she stared and stared and stared at Bellatrix, who gave no insight to if she noticed the attention on her or not. She did, however, notice Hermione's gaze on her, and sent her a wink before moving to talk to some other Slytherins in attendance.

The arrogance of the wink was enough to shake Hermione out of her weird stupor, and she turned back to Daniel with the full intention of continuing their debate, but found the boy still staring, almost awestruck, at Bellatrix. It was as if he had entirely forgotten about the witch's brutal play at Quidditch that left him hurt and missing the rest of the match.

"You're friends with her, right?" Daniel asked once he was able to compose himself, and looked at Hermione with wide eyes. "You're always with her and her sisters, right?"

Hermione couldn't hold back the scoff even if she tried. "I'm friends with Andromeda- her middle sister. Her youngest sister Narcissa likes to pretend I don't exist, and Bellatrix and I... we are most definitely not friends."

"Oh, weird." He scrunched up his nose and looked from Hermione to Bellatrix, then back to Hermione once more, as if trying to understand something. _Good luck trying to figure anything about Bellatrix out_ , Hermione thought. "Well, it's just, she keeps looking at you."

There was zero hesitation as Hermione spun towards the direction she knew Bellatrix to be and- Daniel was right. She immediately locked eyes with Bellatrix, who was staring right at her. Until Hermione looked back, then the face that had looked more... contemplative than anything turned into that terrible scowl before Bellatrix jerked her head back to the girl she had been talking to previously.

What was that all about?

Unfortunately there was not time to think anymore of it, as Slughorn chose that moment to bring everyone to the large table in the center of the room. The students did so at once, everyone claiming seats by their friends, and Hermione's attempt to be no where close to Bellatrix was a relative success. Except while she wasn't next to the girl, she was now directly across from her. Daniel was on Hermione's right, and another Gryffindor was on her left. It wasn't hard to pretend that, instead of Daniel and the other girl, it was Harry and Neville on either side of her, like it should have been.

Slughorn started talking, thanking everyone for coming and once more boosting about the exclusivity of the club and the types of doors that could be open if one continued until graduation. And then, "I've asked Bellatrix here tonight for her to talk about the benefits of the club, and the opportunities it has presented her." He waved to the dark haired girl, who until this point had been talking lowly to the same girl from before. Upon hearing her name, Bellatrix turned her attention to the table, and once more locked her gaze entirely on Hermione.

"Oh, yes the _opportunities_ ," Bellatrix purred, a mocking grin on her face the whole time. "Ministry internships with Obliviators and Aurors, interviewing Unspeakables- not like they had anything to say- and the much more exciting dark arts studies." Slughorn made a face at the end of her spiel and opened his mouth to speak, but Bellatrix was not finished yet. Hermione felt like she was talking to no one but her the entire time. It was like the rest of the students congregated here did not exist. "Of course, that's nothing when compared to the... vast knowledge Professor Slughorn can provide you, hm now, professor? So much... forbidden spells Hogwarts deems too dangerous for its meager students to know, and yet, Professor Slughorn can teach us them all."

Almost instantly memories of Harry telling her and Ron what he had seen in Slughorn's memory through the Pensieve. Slughorn had been the one to explain Horcruxes to a young Tom Riddle, who would then go on to take that knowledge and create multiple. Never once had Hermione stopped to consider what Slughorn may have told Bellatrix.

Tom Riddle was his favorite student at one point, and Slughorn had made no attempt to hide his affection for Bellatrix. He valued smart and cunning students, and who was more so than Bellatrix Black?

Hermione had a very, very bad feeling about it.

"Thank you, Miss Black," Slughorn said quickly, focusing all of the attention back on himself and sending Bellatrix a warning look. She merely went back to poking at her salad, a pleased look in her dark eyes. "Bellatrix is.. _mostly_ correct," he was quick to amend. "Internships during the summers and job offers upon graduation are almost always a given. Bellatrix alone has been offered more internships than most students combined get in a year. Of course, she turned them all down..."

At that, Hermione jerked her gaze back to Bellatrix, many thoughts speeding through her mind. Why turn them all down? Most, if not all of them, would have come from the Ministry, and given her last name and family ties, Hermione couldn't imagine that the offers were from anything less than the more prestigious positions. Why would she refuse? Unless- unless she...

Had Bellatrix already begun her initiation as a Death Eater?

It's the only logical reasoning for turning down such positions, but... Dumbledore said Hermione had until Christmas. It was still just the beginning of October, she should nearly two and a half months before Bellatrix's path was solidified.

"Well, with that introductory speech out of the way, I think it is time for us to enjoy our entrees!" Slughorn said loudly, a forced sort of cheeriness in his voice as all of their plates magically filled with turkey, potatoes, and broiled vegetables.

Everyone spent the next few minutes quietly eating, a few students talking to one another as they ate, and it wasn't until their plates cleared and cleaned themselves and were replaced with delicious looking creme brulee did Slughorn start up the questioning that had Hermione so worried throughout the day.

He started with the girl on his left, a sixth year from Hufflepuff, who blushed under the weight of having the entire room's attention on her. Her voice was quiet and gentle as she talked about her courses. The same for the next four students, and then Slughorn was asking Daniel the same questions.

"My parents are muggles, actually," he said easily, "but my uncle's a wizard, and all my cousins are too, so I grew up kinda in both worlds. It was cool, going to Quidditch matches in the summer while my friends went to football games." That, of course, piqued the interest of a few of the students, and even Slughorn asked what football was, and if the purpose was to turn one's foot into bouncing balls. "No," Daniel laughed, and Hermione would have as well, had more people aside from Daniel done so, but she couldn't risk outing herself as knowing a muggle sport. "It's a game played on the ground. Two teams of eleven try to score a ball in a goal- it's a bit similar to Quidditch, I suppose, except no magic, and only one ball is in play, and the players aren't supposed to hurt or touch one another."

"Sounds boring," Bellatrix added, a few of the Slytherins beside her laughing at the crude joke. It was a well known fact one her favorite enjoyments of Quidditch was it's brutality.

"It's quite exciting actually," Daniel defended, a bit of anger lacing his tone as he glared at Bellatrix. "There's a World Cup and everything like in Quidditch."

"It sounds very interesting, you'll have to go into more detail about this football sport at a later time." Slughorn said, before Bellatrix and Daniel could start arguing further. "Miss Potter, how about you? I know next to nothing of you aside from your academic prowess."

And this was the moment Hermione feared most. She had planned what she would say, and figured she had picked the best course of action that would lead to the least likely possibilities of someone figuring out she's lying about everything.

Though Hermione looked at Slughorn as she spoke, she was keenly aware of a dark and heavy gaze locked entirely on her, one she refused to acknowledge. "My parents are working abroad currently. They move a lot, you see, which is how I ended up here and not remaining in Durmstrang." She took a breath and added, "They do work for Gringotts, and are somewhere in the Middle East, conducting research."

"On what?" Slughorn asked, entirely interested in the story. It was simple and vague enough to not provide anything revealing, and most people who work for the bank had no connection to the Ministry or Hogwarts for someone to call Hermione out.

"Magical containment spells surrounding specific vaults," Hermione replied, and only just finally looked directly across from her. Bellatrix made no move to hide she was staring at her, for once not looking her usual mean and terrible self. Instead, she actually seemed... intrigued about it all. Hermione figured as much, and was another one of the reasons she picked such a career. Bellatrix loved anything most people didn't understand, and the spells and magic surrounding the most powerful bank in the world was high on the list of 'unknowns'.

Slughorn nodded, and said, "A very rewarding career, I'm sure." His attention moved on to the next person, and Hermione finally allowed herself to relax. That had been nothing, painfully easy, and over before she could really blink.

The next hour went much the same, and the entire time, Bellatrix never took her attention off of Hermione. When the dinner was called to an end, it was well past curfew, but Hermione found herself genuinely enjoying the night. She didn't doubt Slughorn would invite her to the next step- a gala, if he continued the same pattern as during her own sixth year, and she rested a little easier knowing the stress of her parent's lives was now gone.

Unfortunately, Hermione couldn't let herself become too relaxed. Now she had to start thinking of why Bellatrix wouldn't take up such internships, and if truly was due to Voldemort, or something else entirely.

* * *

The hallways were completely empty once the students dispersed from Slughorn's office, all of them intending to return to their rooms and get to sleep. Hermione had similar intentions, but allowed herself to fall behind the rest of the Slytherins walking the same path as her, until she was entirely alone. Good. She needed the quiet to think about everything.

It was the echoing of heels clicking against stone that caught Hermione's attention, then a moment later she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Instinct and less than ideal experiences had her gripping her wand, her mouth already beginning to form Protego before her mind caught up to her body, and she took notice of the dark red gown.

The girl had stayed behind longer than the other students to have a private discussion with their professor, so it wasn't too surprising to find Bellatrix had caught up to Hermione, given her slow speed. What was shocking was that the girl was actually purposely walking Hermione's speed, both girls separated by either side of the hall.

Bellatrix caught Hermione's eye when she made it obvious she was looking at her, and said, "Slughorn almost seemed impressed with you tonight." The words weren't a compliment by any means, but they did lack the usual snarky tone Bellatrix tended to use, as well as the vicious bite she had when she wanted her verbal attacks to truly sting. The not-a-compliment-not-a-insult was ruined when she continued with, "Must feel thrilling to finally impress someone after all these years."

The more than familiar urge to lash out at the girl and insult her back was as present as ever, but Hermione bit it down. All she could think about was Bellatrix could already be working for Voldemort. If that were the case, Hermione couldn't waste what precious time she had by furthering distancing themselves. Instead, she said, "That dress looks nice on you." Surprisingly, it wasn't as much an effort as she had thought to say the words. Most likely because it was true. Bellatrix did look phenomenal.

Dark eyes widened in shock, the only hint Bellatrix would ever show that she was unprepared for the comment, before the usual haughtiness claimed her pale features once more. "Of course I do. I'm insulted you expected anything less."

Hermione probably stunned them both when she laughed, a soft and bellied laugh. It lasted only a few seconds before she contained herself. "You're right," she admitted, still smiling. "It would be you who showed up to a business casual event looking like they just left a ball."

"Well, someone has to represent such an elegant house." Bellatrix raked her eyes over Hermione's form, and something about that had the brunette blushing slightly. "God forbid we leave it up to you."

"It really would kill you to compliment someone, wouldn't it?"

"Who knows? I've never tried," Bellatrix responded easily, her slim shoulders rising in a shrug Hermione would almost call playful. They were close to the Slytherin common room now, only a few more turns and they'd be there, and Hermione was actually feeling... disappointed at that.

In the month the two girls had known one another, it's been nothing but screaming matches, hex throwing, and brutal fists to the face. This was- not quite friendly, but not really antagonizing either. Hermione slowed her steps, Bellatrix automatically matching it, if only to delay this almost enjoyable conversation longer.

"Slughorn really likes you. For the life of me I can't figure out why," Hermione said lightly, a smile on her face directed at Bellatrix. They were closer to one another now, still a healthy distance apart, but closer than they've ever been without some type of violence following.

Bellatrix's face was on full view, illuminated in combination by the partial moonlight slipping through the high arching windows and the torches lining the halls. With the light on her, she looked ethereal. Soft and enticing in a way Hermione doubted she looked much before. "You do really look gorgeous," she heard herself say, near breathless and raspy in the quiet hall.

The dark haired witch looked nonplussed at the confession, enough so that she was silent for most of the walk back to the entrance to the common room. It wasn't until they had reached the empty stone wall did Hermione hear, in a tone that was bordering on embarrassed, a very quiet, "As do you."

Perhaps if they hadn't walked in on the scene in the common room, Hermione would have thought more on that sentence, probably would have blushed, and probably would have stuttered out a humiliating response. Instead, her attention zone in to the fact that the entirety of the sixth and seventh year Slytherin students were stood in the common room.

All of them were dressed in regular clothes, and all of them had their wands in their hands.

Oh, nothing about this was promising in the slightest.

"Professor McGonagall just sent out the announcement- all sixth and seventh years need to be ready for an attack," one of the girls from Hermione's Runes class said, positioned near the front of the blockade of students.

"An attack by whom?" Hermione asked, wand out and body tensed.

"Death Eaters are attacking Hogsmeade as we speak."


	6. VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this up on ff.net as well, but for whatever reason on there it says the word count is 44,599 and here it is 43,690. not sure why the numbers are different since its the same amount of words per chapter, but as far as I am aware there's no difference between the two, so in case people have read on one platform and then switched to another or something, just pointing out this weird difference 
> 
> also this is by faaaaar the longest story I have ever written, with by faaaaar the most amount of reviews, and seeing people leave comments makes me so incredibly happy each time, so I just wanted to once again tell all of you guys thank you!

_“Death Eaters are attacking Hogsmeade as we speak.”_

Hermione moved very swiftly after hearing that. Her outfit was not the sort to fight against a strong militia, and so she had no choice but to make a quick detour to her dorm to change from the tight pants and button down into a jeans and a sweater, exchanging her dress shoes for sneakers should she need to run.

“Where do you think you’re going?” A large arm wrapped around Hermione’s bicep, effectively trapping her in place once she rushed back into the common room. None of the other students have moved, and everyone had their eyes trained on Hermione and the guy holding her- Steve, the Slytherin Quidditch captain. He was broad shouldered and strong, his grip on Hermione firm. “We were told to stay here.”

Hermione needed to jerk her arm a few times before Steve let her go, and she couldn’t waste anymore time than she already had as she stalked for the door. “Then stay here. I’m not sitting idly by.” With that, she left the common room, and paused once she came to the empty hall. Hogsmeade’s was roughly twenty minutes away, maybe fifteen if she rushed. And that was only if she was able to make it out of the castle without any professors trying to stop her. Would that be enough time? She had no idea how long had passed since the attack started.

She’d just have to risk it.

No other Slytherins followed her, and while she was disappointed they wouldn’t defend the school and innocents, she was also glad to note Bellatrix had still been in the common room when she rushed by. She wasn’t surprised the girl wouldn’t rush out to defend the school, but that also meant she wasn’t going out to fight on the Death Eaters’ side either.

Hermione had just reached the main level of the castle when sounds of rushing footsteps reached her, and she ducked into an alcove to remain undetected. She didn’t have to stay hidden for long before three professors ran by, all fully dressed with wands out as they raced to join the fight at Hogwarts. She wondered how many would join, and how many would stay behind to defend the school if need be. No matter, there was no way they wouldn’t be outnumber by the dark wizards for either battle. 

Another passing minute and Hermione was running through the halls again, until she all but crashed into someone else. 

“Students out of bed!” Filch screamed at the top of his lungs, gathering himself quickly enough to stand. “That’s a detention for you-” a bright light slamming into his chest cut him off as Hermione hit him with the stunning spell. 

She did feel marginally bad about it, and knew there would be disciplinary action for assaulting a staff member, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care as she headed towards the castle entrance. Filch would be fine after a while, but by that point it would be too long for anyone to stop her before she reached her goal. 

And reach it she did. 

Hogsmeade was in utter chaos. Immediately she could see four professors against more than half a dozen Death Eaters. Someone must have cast a fire spell, as more than half of Dervish and Banges was burning, part of the roof collapsed in on itself. The fire raged against the ground, weaving farther towards the forest, but spreading quick. 

They must have attacked while the Hog’s Head was at full capacity, as more than a few drunk witches and wizards stumbled about, some casting half hearted and ill worded spells in a desperate attempt to protect themselves while others tried to run away. 

Someone screamed, a high pitched sound that made the hairs on the back of Hermione’s neck raise. That seemed like a good place to start, so she took off in the direction she best guessed the noise to come from. A minute later and she found the source- a woman was on the ground, bleeding from a wound on her arm, while a Death Eater stood overtop of her. Red light had just started to flare at the tip of their wand when Hermione hit them with a Stupefy and rushed to the woman’s side. 

“Are you okay?” She asked, crouching down to better look at the injury. It didn't seem deep, and Hermione couldn't waste too much time by healing it. “Do you know what happened?” 

The woman choked out a panicked gasp, and it took her a moment to gather herself before she could speak. “They-they came out of nowhere!” She cried, gripping onto Hermione’s arm near painfully. “One minute we’re drinking firewhiskey, the next- Death Eaters are setting fire to the buildings and hexes people!” 

They didn’t have a true purpose for being here aside from wreaking the most havoc as possible then. There was nothing to gain from stealing anything here, and the Death Eaters seemed more inclined to torture the innocent witches and wizards than much else. 

“Leave,” Hermione commanded, pulling away to stand up and assess the scene. The professors hadn’t let the Death Eaters gain anymore ground, but they haven’t moved much either. Everyone was at a relative standstill. “Go somewhere safe, apparate away. Now.” She didn’t look to make sure the woman obey before she started running once more, this time heading directly towards the line of Hogwarts professors. 

She spotted McGonagall first, the older woman giving her a bewildered look, and opened her mouth to probably demand Hermione return to the safety of the castle. She didn’t get the opportunity as the Death Eaters continued to bombard the group with curse after curse. 

Hermione jumped right in. Dueling may not be her strongest suit, but she was by no means naive to the ways of fighting, and blended in easily with the more skilled adults around her. As they all fought, she could hear more yelling further into the village, a bright spell flying by every now and then. More professors and Death Eaters over there as well. Hermione had no idea how many Death Eaters had come out tonight, but Hogwarts’ fighters were close to being overwhelmingly outnumbered. 

“It sounds like they could use some help over there,” McGonagall called out to Hermione, apparently resigned to the fact that they could use any help they got at this point. A scolding would come later, maybe another detention, but any sort of punishment would be worth it if lives were saved. 

When she reached another section of wizards squaring off against one another, Hermione did not stop to join in. It was two professors against two Death Eaters, and she knew she could be of more help elsewhere, if the professors truly were spread as thin as she feared. 

It wasn’t until she came across the backend of the village did Hermione feel a new kind of panic the moment she recognized a flash of dark brown hair and green robes. It was only due to the fires blazing through the street was Hermione able to tell the hair was not as dark as the girl’s older sister, her skin not quite as pale. Otherwise, she might have thought that was Bellatrix firing hex after hex at two approaching Death Eaters. But it was Andromeda. 

Movement on the girl’s right caught Hermione’s eye, and it took her a second to process the second boy fighting the dark witches and wizards. Taller than Andromeda, Ten Tonks was unmistakable. For a moment, Hermione didn’t see them, but the daughter they would one day have together, fighting so valiantly against these very same foes, her own husband steadfast at her side, both of them willing to die for the other and their infant child, named after the brave man Hermione now watched defend his future wife. 

And then, Andromeda blocked a scarily green curse her way and screamed, “Gotta try harder than that, you bastards!” and Hermione was reminded it was not Tonks and Remus fighting together, but fifteen year old Andromeda, and then all Hermione could wonder was _what_ was her friend doing here? 

There wasn’t any time for Hermione to yell out for Andromeda and Ted’s attention, as two Death Eaters set their sights on Hermione, figuring her to be an easy target. She was happy to prove them wrong, but her scream of the shield charm did draw Andromeda’s attention, and even from this distance she could see the girl’s shock and worry upon finding Hermione locked into battle. 

Hermione was stuck on the defensive for a bit, throwing up shield after shield, each one buckling under the weight of the curses the Death Eater was unrelentingly throwing. A break came when the dark wizard pulled his arm back for an Unforgivable, and Hermione took the opportunity to throw another Stupefy. 

_Two down_ , she thought as she ran to Andromeda and Ted’s side. _Make that four_ , she amended when she saw the other two Death Eaters had been taken down as well. 

“What are you doing here?” Hermione and Andromeda asked at once. Hermione looked the younger girl over- dirt stained and pale, but whole. No visible wounds, no blood. Ted was much the same. 

“Do you know how many there are?” 

Both of them shook their heads, but it was Ted that said, “We were in Honeydukes when the attack started. By the time we broke away from the crowd of people running, the Death Eaters were too spread out to count.”

“Okay...” Hermione looked around them, the village thick with smoke from the still spreading fire. Most of Dervish and Banges was now gone, and many more buildings were going to follow the same fate if the fire didn’t get under control. “Let’s work on the fire,” she decided, Andromeda and Ted nodding their heads as they spread out to begin using the Extinguishing charm. It was slow work, made worse by the occasional curse sent their way, be it intentional or deflected from a professor’s shield. 

By the time they had most of the fire in their general vicinity under control, almost everyone not a part of the battle had fled, and that gave Hermione the clear view to see a terrible sight. 

A pack of eight new Death Eaters had just appeared, grouped together in two rows of four and marching directly towards Hermione and her friends. 

There was no way they could fight them off. Each of them were more than decent spell casters, but against eight fully trained Death Eaters? Hermione would not kid herself in thinking they stood a chance. Not to mention, the professors were still distracted with their own outnumbered fights. They’d receive no help if they got into a duel with the dark wizards now. She raced back to Andromeda and Ted, the view of their approaching doom blocked by the building they were behind. 

Hermione offered no explanation as she demanded they run. Thankfully, the two were wise enough not to question it as they quickly joined Hermione. 

They were being chased. Hermione could hear the crunch of gravel and sticks underneath heavy boots as they ran, aiming away from Hogwarts and towards the darkened forest. Ted threw a hex blindly over his shoulder at their pursuers but missed, the spell crackling into one of the thick trees. It was only thanks to Andromeda that Hermione didn’t get hit with a returning attack, the younger girl slamming her body into Hermione’s and knocking her aside. It had the negative consequence of knocking both of them off balance and onto the ground. Both of them jumped back up almost instantly, but it was what their attackers needed to catch up.

Three against two. Not terrible odds, but Hermione would have liked it against one, or even better- none. The two Death Eaters were men, obvious by their tall frames and wide shoulders, noticeable even through the heavy cloaks they all wore. With the golden masks, it was impossible to tell who they were, if it was someone who would stand beside Voldemort once more when he would rise the second time, someone who had already tried to kill Hermione.

 _Not Bellatrix_ , Hermione reminded herself as the five of them began another duel. They had faced off roughly a dozen of the dark magic users, and none of them had matched any of Bellatrix’s characteristics- her shortened height, her wild and unpredictable wand work- none of it was the witch’s doing in Hogsmeade, and that gave Hermione hope she was redeemable. Hermione doubted that if Bellatrix had any inkling of this attack tonight she would allow her two younger sisters out of her sight, Slughorn’s party be damned.

Seconds or minutes or hours later, Hermione was lost entirely in the battle. Both sides were wearing down, the exertion of the night weighing on them all, but none relented. One of Ted’s spells hit home on the taller and thinner of the two, slamming into his side and forcing him to collapse with a pained groan, his mask falling off with the movement. The second wizard threw up a Protego to protect them both as he ran to his downed partner. It was the distraction they were looking for, and Andromeda didn’t waste time by grabbing Hermione’s arm and jerking her back into a run.

Hermione fought it, wanting to stay and finish the fight, to incapacitate the Death Eaters and bind them until professors or Ministry workers could come find them all, but Andromeda and Ted did not agree. Andromeda pulled harder again, and Hermione had no choice but to retreat, but not before she looked at the two on the ground once more.

And saw the unmistakable face of Rabastan Lestrange, eyes squeezed shut in agony. Whatever spell Ted had hit him with must have been brutal as he clutched his ribs, the second-

The second had to be Rodolphus. There was no way any other Death Eater would run to the sixth year’s side like that, would allow Hermione and the others to escape so easily while he was focused on Rabastan. It was Rodolphus behind the second golden mask, of that Hermione was absolutely certain.

“This way!” Ted yelled, farther ahead of the two girls, his arm outstretched towards the left, following the curve of the lake, and Hermione understood his plan immediately. They’d go the long way, circle back to Hogsmeade, and then run back to Hogwarts. It would take forever this way, and the professors would be panicking to find where they had gone, as everyone present at the battle had seen the three students throwing spell after spell before disappearing when the fire became unbearable. 

They continued to run, their legs and arms pumping continuously as they forced their straining bodies to move, and it wasn’t until they were sure no more Death Eaters were following them did they take a moment to catch their breaths. Ted fell to the ground in a graceless bundle, Andromeda leaned her head against a tree and sucked in much needed air, and Hermione slowly sat until her butt touched the grass, staring into the nigh sky and worrying over what came next.

There was never any question on whether Rodolphus and Rabastan would join Voldemort’s army or not. No, the question was when that would happen. Hermione hadn’t been prepared for it to be _now_.

What does she do with this information? Take it to Dumbledore? He’d believe her, but she knew the Ministry would not, if it even got that far. They would not take the word of an unknown girl against a Sacred Twenty-Eight family, of that she was certain. The only thing that would come of going to Dumbledore would be putting a target on her back, both for the Lestrange boys but also possibly Bellatrix, and that she just could not risk.

She’d have to play it smart, watch her back around Rodolphus more than she already was. It was the only choice right now, at least until she got Bellatrix on her side.

After too short a break Hermione stood back up, her lungs burning and her legs aching. Adrenaline was beginning to fade, and she was starting to feel all the small hits she had taken in the fight. A bit of blood coated the inside of her mouth, her wrist throbbed, and she knew there was some small nicks and scrapes on her arms and legs. “We need to keep moving,” she said, watching as Ted stood and rubbed Andromeda’s back for only a moment before they walked over to join her. Another moment later and they were running again, slower and more organized this time.

None of them stopped until they got closer to Hogsmeade once more, noticeable by the growing thickness of the smoke in the air, the noise of so many people only just starting to calm down from their panic. Still, they gave the village a wide berth, staying hidden in the forest.

It was the wrong decision to make.

When Hogsmeade was to their backs, Hogwarts nearly in their sights, another attack came.

Andromeda went down with a pain filled screamed.

“ _ANDROMEDA_!” Ted bellowed, turning on his feet and running to their downed friend. Hermione did the same, scanning the trees around them for their attacker. Nothing caught her eye. Whoever it was they were remaining hidden by the shadows. Was it Rodolphus? Come to get revenge on them for hurting his brother? Or someone else entirely?

With her friends distracting, Hermione stood guard, wand out and spells ready to start flying as she continued to spin in a circle. She had to force herself to ignore Andromeda’s heart wrenching sob. All of her attention needed to be on protecting them right now. Ted would take care of Andromeda, would heal what he could of whatever wounds she got from the spell. It had been wordless, a bright orange that could have been any number of hexes or curses, and did nothing to tell Hermione what kind of state to expect her friend in.

“I don’t see them!” She yelled, spinning back and forth, desperate for some sort of- 

_There_.

The moonlight reflected off of something shiny and metallic, just a small fraction of light by the trees to Hermione’s right. She paused, wand aimed, and waited with bated breath for the figure to move farther into her line of sight.

She didn’t need to wait long.

“ _Bombarda_!” 

Hermione wasn’t aiming for the person.

They had moved just enough away from the tree, and it was there that Hermione struck, bark exploding in a loud bang, wood and sticks flying in all directions as the Death Eater was slammed into the ground. Hermione waited for them to rise as the air settled. They did not. She didn’t hesitate to stalk over to the downed dark wizard, finding him struggling to rise, his mask lost and his hood down.

It wasn’t Rodolphus or Rabastan. Dark and oily hair, slicked back against his head, his face much younger than Hermione had seen on the wanted posters.

Antonin Dolohov.

She is very, very relieved to have chosen to knock him down like this then try to engage him in a battle. In her time, there were not many who rivaled him for talented, and while he couldn’t be older than his early twenties now, Hermione doubted he was much less impressive.

Antonin scowled at her, his eyes dark and furious, laced with a hint of pain. One of the pieces of the tree had lodged itself into his upper thigh, blood already staining his clothing and leaking onto the grass. It was the reason he hadn’t apparated away yet either- couldn’t risk making the wound worse if he got splinched.

“Gonna kill me now, girlie?” He growled, showing teeth already beginning to yellow. “You better, otherwise I’m gonna come back for you for doing this to me.” 

Hermione wasn’t not a murderer. She certainly wasn’t a murder to someone who couldn’t even properly defend himself. There were some lines that could never be crossed, no matter how dire the situation may be. “Good luck,” she responded, and gave him no warning before hitting him directly in the head with a firm “Stupefy,” and watched as head instantly lolled to the side, eyes closed and body limp.

She didn’t waste a single second longer staring at him before she rushed to Andromeda’s side, who had fallen silent. It was only the slight rise and fall of her chest that prevented Hermione from losing it entirely. But she needed help, desperately, if the blood from her side and thigh was any indication.

“Andy, please, wake up, _please_ ,” Ted begged, his blood stained hands pressed on either side of Andromeda’s too pale face, redden handprints left imprinted. He turned wild eyes to Hermione. “Do something. _DO SOMETHING_!” 

Think. Think. _Think_. 

The healing spells that came to mind would do no good in this case, meant for smaller cuts like when she had healed Bellatrix, or broken bones. Not... whatever mess was currently making up Andromeda’s body. No, no spells would help her friend, at least not immediately, but- 

But Hagrid had taught them a spell in their second year, and Dumbledore had shown them the same spell again in their fourth, during the Triwizard Cup. It was incredibly risky. They had no idea how many Death Eaters remained, what if more came? It was a chance they had no choice but to make. 

Hermione stood up, said to Ted, “Stand and get your wand out. More might come and we need to be ready,” and aimed her own wand high towards the sky. She had just started the spell to shot green and red sparks from it when noise sounded to their backs, both of them spinning around and shooting two hexes in that general direction. 

“Students!” The undeniable voice of McGonagall called out just as the bright light from the spell reflected off three Hogwarts professors’ faces, the hexes easily brushed aside. McGonagall, Flitwick, and Kettleburn. Hermione and Ted lowered their wands, both heaving sighs of relief at the sight of their professors standing before them. They all rushed to Hermione and Ted, and McGonagall wasted no time in crouching down to Andromeda’s side, waving her enlightened wand over the wound. 

It looked... 

Ted gave a pitiful cry, and Hermione had to look away from the bloodied scene before her. 

“We must get her back to the castle immediately,” McGonagall said, keeping her hand pressed to the wound. Already Hermione could see blood staining the entire palm and fingers, but her favorite professor did not flinch at the sight or feeling. 

“Antonin Dolohov is over there,” Hermione pointed in the general direction of the dark wizard, and watched as Kettleburn ran off to the woods. Before he came back, Flitwick cast a spell to levitate Andromeda to make transporting her as easy as possible. They were ready to go when Kettleburn returned, head shaking back and forth. “He was injured pretty bad and unconscious, someone must have came for him and left without attacking us.” 

“Their numbers were thinning out. This attack was most likely just a way to instill fear into the general public without much goal in mind. They probably didn’t expect professors to respond, and fled when they had the chance,” McGonagall explained as they began the too slow trek back to Hogwarts. 

Ted cried the entire way, his face gaunt and his eyes red as he kept casting worried glances at the fifth year. “She’s going to be fine, right?” He asked, his voice near hysterical. “She’s going to be fine?” He repeated when the first question went unanswered. 

“We’re taking her straight to the hospital wing, child. They’ll take care of her,” Kettleburn responded, his voice firm but gentle. “Take a deep breath, boy, otherwise you’ll pass out.” 

“Hogsmeade-” Hermione started, the battle entirely forced from her mind until just now. “Is it over?” 

“Yes,” McGonagall responded grimly. “Aurors finally arrived, but not before the Death Eaters escaped. They’re taking all injured people to St. Mungo’s as we speak. Hush now, we don’t want to give away our location should any still be around.” 

* * *

Dumbledore had insisted Hermione and Ted make a stop in the hospital wing to ensure they were indeed as fine as they claimed. Even the sight of Madam Pomfrey, a person Hermione had not been prepared to see in this time, was not enough to lift her spirits when that very woman was leaning over her friend’s unresponsive body. 

Ted had to be escorted out of the wing when he wouldn’t leave Andromeda’s side, too hysterical and emotional to listen to the professors and nurses around them, before two of them physically removed him. His wails of Andromeda’s name trailed behind them. 

_She’ll live, she’ll live, she’ll live_ , Hermione told herself, over and over and over again. Andromeda _couldn’t_ die. This attack must have happened in the original timeline, and she survived that, so she’ll survive this too.

But Hermione hadn’t been in the original timeline, and it had been her idea to run into the words. Perhaps if _she_ hadn’t been there, Andromeda and Ted would have escaped unscathed. Was this all her fault?

After verifying Hermione was as fine as she claimed, the nurses forced her from the hospital wing with a promise of being able to come back the next night. Hermione refused to budge from her position on one of the empty beds, _couldn’t_ budge until she knew Andromeda would survive the night. One of the nurses said as much, but did add the fifth year had a rough recovery ahead of her. But she _would_ recover. 

It was enough to get Hermione to stand on shaky legs and make the long walk back to the dungeons for the Slytherin rooms. Unlike the last time Hermione entered, the space was now empty. Word must have reached the students that the battle was over, Hogwarts was safe once more, and they all must have gone to bed.

Mostly empty, Hermione realized, when she walked farther into the room and saw two figures sat by the fire. 

Bellatrix was standing in an instant when she noticed Hermione, her usually annoyed face grave, her pallor grayer than ever as she stalked towards Hermione. When she took note of the blood staining Hermione’s clothes and arms, that look turned even more devastated, and Hermione had to stumble back a step to prevent the two of them from colliding when Bellatrix rushed to stand directly before her. 

“ _Where is she_.” 

Hermione’s shoulders drooped. She’s not sure how word reached Bellatrix and Narcissa about the state of their sister yet, but someone had definitely informed them of her critical condition. “The hospital wing.” 

There was an odd noise that came from Narcissa, the youngest girl sat with her head in her hands, and it took a second for Hermione to process Narcissa’s shoulders were shaking. She was crying. 

“She’s going to be okay. Antonin Dolohov hit her with a nasty curse but-” Hermione stopped talking immediately upon seeing the look on Bellatrix’s face. Furious didn’t quite do it justice. “-but Madam Pomfrey is healing her now. She’s unconscious, but she is going to be okay.” 

Bellatrix jerked a hand through her thick head, shoving the untamable mane backwards. Pieces immediately fell back into her eyes when she moved again to stand beside Narcissa, one hand tangled in the back of her baby sister’s blonde hair in a show of comfort. Narcissa reached up to grip that hand, and Hermione couldn’t help but feel like she was intruding on a private movement. 

Just as she made to leave the girls alone, Bellatrix looked up at her once more. “What was she doing at that fight?” 

“She was-” Hermione technically didn’t know. Andromeda hadn’t said or confirmed anything, and neither had Ted, but the longer Hermione had to think on it, the more she was sure the two had snuck out for a late night date. They were limited on where they could go while at Hogwarts, so Hermione assumed they’d went out before curfew, most likely rushing out as soon as Andromeda had helped Hermione get ready for the dinner. How they planned to get back into the castle was beyond her, but not her concern right now. 

Does she tell Bellatrix and Narcissa any of that? History had already proven both girls would one day turn their back on their sister for being in love with this very man, so Hermione very well couldn’t speed that up now. Not when her friend so desperately needed her sisters’ support while she recovered. 

“She was with Ted Tonks.” 

The admission did not come from Hermione. The youngest Black had stood up, pulled away from Bellatrix, and faced them both. Her face was stoic, unflinching under Bellatrix’s outraged look. 

“She told me she was going to see him,” Narcissa continued, uncaring of the seething look her sister sent her. “I should have told her not to, and then she’d be okay, but...” Hermione watched as she bit back a sob. “But I told her I’d cover for her if you asked when you got back from that dinner. None of us expected _this_.” 

Hermione really wished she would have left when Bellatrix comforted her sister only moments ago, as the oldest girl now whirled, dark eyes furious and hands fisted, to scream at Narcissa. 

“How _dare_ you support this vile infatuation with a mudblood!” Neither Black girl noticed Hermione’s flinch at the horrid term, both too caught up in one another as Bellatrix went on with her rant. “Her friendship with the mudblood was hardly tolerated. I swore to keep that a secret from father _only_ if it went no further.” 

_Oh?_ Hermione still hadn’t been able to figure out much regarding Cygnus Black, but she would wager a guess that even friendships with muggle-born wizards was forbidden, and was not prepared for Bellatrix to endorse such a thing, even for her beloved sister. And to hide it from their father? All so very interesting. 

Even more interesting though, was what was happening right before her eyes. In the month that Hermione had been at Hogwarts, Narcissa had always been the most level headed of the three sisters, a quiet and watchful girl who never lost her poise and elegance. 

With Andromeda’s current state, Bellatrix screaming at her was clearly the last straw. “How dare I? How _dare_ I? How dare _you_ , Bella!” Narcissa screamed, her voice higher pitched and more shrill than Bellatrix’s. The dark haired witch didn’t even flinch at the sudden noise as Narcissa continued to yell. “Our sister is in the _hospital wing fighting for her life_! And you have the gull to focus on some boy?” 

And then, Hermione was privy to learn just how Black-ish Narcissa truly was, as she said the next thing that made Bellatrix flinch as if she were physically struck. 

“You’re _just_ like father.” 

* * *

Hermione hadn’t been expecting to run into anybody while she walked the school grounds the next morning, least of all Bellatrix. She had just wanted an escape from the stifling Slytherin common room, from all the students who pressed her for gossip once it spread that she had been a part of the fight the night before. 

Her first stop had been to the hospital wing, where she found Ted slouched in a chair at Andromeda’s side- both asleep, or still unconscious. Not wanting to disturb either of them, Hermione stayed just long enough to watch her friend’s chest rise and fall slowly and consistently, see her more flushed cheeks, and assure herself that Andromeda was in fact going to be fine, before she turned and left. She’d tried to walk the halls after that, but it felt like all of the portraits were watching her every step, whispering back and forth as she passed. It did nothing to make her feel better, and only added an extra weight to her mind and shoulders. 

None of the students would be on the grounds today, of that she was sure. If she learned anything from the multitude of attacks during her time here with Harry, then it was the professors keeping the students within the castle walls the day after an attack to ensure another wasn’t about to happen. After what Hermione had done to help them, none of the few professors she came across on her retreat outside made to stop her. Filch did made a comment that if someone attacked her, she’d bloodied well deserve it, but that was ignored as she stalked away from him. 

Or she thought no one would be outside. Hermione frowned when she noticed the person sat on the edge of Black lake, their back to her, giving her the perfect view of ridiculous dark hair that could only belong to one person. With a moment to decide if she really wanted to do this, Hermione started walking in the direction of Bellatrix, not stopping until she was a few feet from the girl’s side. 

For her part, Bellatrix did not show any surprise at the intrusion, and merely raised an eyebrow when Hermione made to sit down. “What are you doing here, traitor?” Lacking the usual bite Bellatrix talked to Hermione in, the words sounded more hollow and tired than the brunette had ever heard. “I assume you saw Andy today.”

“She looks better.” Not _good_ , per se, but _better_. Less like she was on Death’s door. “Did you?” 

“I did.” _And saw the mudblood at her side, watching her like a dog_ , went unsaid between them, but Hermione knew Bellatrix would have seen Ted there this morning. 

“He cares about her, and she cares about him,” Hermione defended, her eyebrows furrowed and a frown on her face. Bellatrix wasn’t looking at Hermione anymore, instead her eyes were locked on the still water before them. “Why is that so terrible?” 

Bellatrix scoffed. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.” 

“Your family is full of blood-traitors, or near enough to be considered one. _The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black_ -” her voice had taken on a mocking tone as she said that, her head moving side to side with each syllable. “Blacks are not given the option of being with someone because they _care_ about them. That is a luxury offered to mudbloods and traitors. Tell me, rat, would your parents disown you for bringing home a muggle?” 

Hermione didn’t even need to think about it to know her parents- if they remembered who she was, that is- would never turn their backs on her for loving anyone, no matter the person, so long as she was happy and loved. But Bellatrix meant in this world, with her family being the Potter’s. From what little she knew of Harry’s grandparents, her answer was not changed much. “My parents would support any decision I made.” 

“Exactly.” 

“Are you your parents?” Hermione challenged, thinking back to last night and Narcissa’s scathing words. _You’re just like father._ Bellatrix hadn’t reacted to that well, had let out a scream more animalistic than human, and stormed from the common room, but not before throwing one of the wooden chairs against the wall. It was the last Hermione saw of her before this moment, and she was still yet to see Narcissa. 

The question had the intended reaction Hermione was going for; Bellatrix turned to her, fury in her dark eyes and a deep scowl on her pretty sure. “Not that you have any right to ask such personal questions about but family, but Cissy sure seems to think I am.”

“Narcissa is hurting, just like you are and-”

“Do not presume to know what I am.”

“Your little sister is in the hospital wing. She nearly died last night, Bellatrix. I know you care for her.” 

“What is your point to all of this, Potter?” 

Hermione did not miss the use of her last name, said without any sort of mockery added. “My point is, I may not know your family, but I do know Andromeda, and I think she is worth standing beside, regardless of whoever she loves. She looks up to you, Bellatrix, and wants your support more than anything on this, even if she’s never said it.” 

“What is it about my sister?” 

The brunette frowned, staring at the girl beside her with a look of confusion on her face. “What do you mean?”

“You and I do not get along. You and Narcissa do not get along. And yet you deal with that, every day, just so you can be around Andromeda. What is it about her that you like so much?”

“She...” Hermione sucked in her bottom lip, eyes now out on the water as she contemplated the question. There were so many reasons to like Andromeda, and she could spend hours listing them all. But she didn’t. She just said, “There was a girl back at my school that I was very good friends with, and I miss her- all of my friends, really- every single day that I am here. Being around Andromeda makes me miss them all of them a little bit less, but especially my one friend.”

She didn’t expect Bellatrix to truly be interested in the story, let alone to ask questions, but, “What is her name?” 

“Ginny. She’s... wild does not do her personality justice.” Hermione took a moment to compose herself, before she gave a watery laugh, and said, “You know, one of the Death Eaters shot the killing curse at Andromeda last night.” Bellatrix tensed up, spinning around to stare at Hermione with panicked eyes, but the brunette continued before she could be interrupted. “Do you know what your sister did? She _laughed_. And told them to try harder. It was... such a Ginny thing to do, and in that moment it was like my friends were fighting at my side again, not Andromeda or Ted.” 

Hermione wasn’t surprised when Bellatrix had nothing to say to that, no snarky or biting comment. Just, acceptable silence between both of them as they watched the water together. Every now and then bubbles would break the surface, be it from the merpeople or the Giant squid or whoever knew what else lurked in there. 

In the time they sat together, Bellatrix shifted from a more defensive position of her arms wrapped around her legs to her arms behind her, leaning all of her weight on them as she stared up the sky with her eyes closed. It was the most peaceful and serene Hermione had ever seen her. 

When an hour or more had to have passed without either girl saying something, Bellatrix stood up. She did not look to Hermione as she did so, nor did she look when she said, “I’m glad she has you as a friend. Even if you are a stupid blood-traitor.” Then she walked away, heading back to the castle, most likely to scare away Ted and take his place by her sister’s side. 

Hermione remained by the lake for a while longer, watching as the sky turned from a bright blue to a gentle pink and orange, fading to purple until the sun set behind the trees and the moon began to rise. It was only then did she make her way back, walking through empty halls and smiling at the portraits that tipped their hats to her as she passed. 


	7. VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up! Its the end of the semester for me and I've been swamped with final projects and exams, but just two more and im done college forever! so yay!

McGonagall hadn’t been inaccurate when she first told Hermione the Aurors were not able to capture a single Death Eater. Word spread quickly about the fight, and about the lack of proper response from the Ministry. An attack so close to Hogwarts? And their only defense had been professors? Parents were not pleased. More than once Hermione had heard a few of the wealthier students, all pure-blooded, make statements about their parents worrying for their safety. 

Hermione knew this was a period of unrest in the Wizarding world, that it was just the beginning of a very long road of misery and distrust, one that would claim the lives of many- muggle, muggle-born, and any suspected sympathizers. Voldemort had not reached the level of prominence Hermione knew him to have, currently little more than a militia group attempting to spread their messages of hate. When the newest Daily Prophet was released, the headline read: 

**THE DARK LORD STRIKES AGAIN- DOZENS LEFT WOUNDED BY HIS HAND**

The picture below the title was of the smoldering ruins of Honeydukes, as well as a group of Aurors bending down to check two unconscious people caught in the attack. Of course, the Prophet had made it seem like Ministry workers were standing by dead bodies, and that Voldemort himself at been at the fight. But the fact that they still felt comfortable using his name instead of You-Know-Who showed how little Voldemort had accomplished so far. It would only get drastically worse from here on out in ways no one in this period was ready for. 

And she also knew how pitifully the Ministry would handle everything. Much like they did with Voldemort’s return, they would spend the next year or so denying any allegations that attacks were done with the intent to purify the world of anyone undeserving of the magic in their veins. They wouldn’t respond until it was too late, which is ultimately one of the reasons Dumbledore would create the Order of the Phoenix. 

That thought caught Hermione’s attention, and a new plan started to take form in her mind. McGonagall had merely said for Hermione to prevent Bellatrix from joining Voldemort, but what if she could do more than that? Everyone knew Bellatrix was one of the fiercest witches the world had ever seen, and her participation in Voldemort’s army did add a significant advantage. 

What if Hermione could give the Order that advantage? 

It would be hard, near impossible, especially considering where the two of them stood in regards to one another. Maybe not completely impossible though. Bellatrix had been almost friendly to Hermione when they sat together on the lake, and that conversation was the longest they had gone with being civil to the other. It was a step in the right direction, and Hermione was not going to waste it. If she could not only convince Bellatrix to never join Voldemort but to also side with the Order, well maybe they’d have a lot better chance of winning the war. 

The horcrux would be something to content with, no matter if Hermione swayed Bellatrix to join the Order, or if she only managed to prevent her from joining Voldemort. She hadn’t previously considered it, but if Bellatrix never followed Voldemort, he never would have given her Helga Hufflepuff’s Cup, so that would be another horcrux Harry and them would have to figure out once more. In the long run it was worth it, but just one more thing Hermione and McGonagall hadn’t thought of when hatching this ill planned idea. 

Or how Hermione would even get back, and when. Time Turners weren’t meant to go forward in time, only back a few hours, and by the time those hours were up, the user was supposed to go to the place they originally left from right as Time picked back up. Except Hermione was thirty years in the past now. If she waited thirty years, she would be showing back up to the school nearly fifty years old. 

And she still had no idea how long it would take to successfully get Bellatrix onto the right side of the war. Dumbledore said she had until Christmas, that something bad was going to happen during their break that sealed Bellatrix’s allegiance to the Dark Lord. Time would fly by before then, and it had taken Hermione over a month for the girl to even hold a normal conversation with that- and at the expense of Andromeda nearly dying. Another two months didn’t seem like enough time to not only get Bellatrix to trust her completely, but to turn her back on whatever was already happening to her. 

But to what end? And for how long? Bellatrix gets saved now, but what was to stop her from changing sides a year from now? Five? In a decade? Voldemort grew in strength with each passing day, and in less than a year Dumbledore would form the Order to fight against him and his army. It would be another eleven years of fighting before the Dark Lord was defeated, and even then it was only by a stroke of luck that Harry destroyed his physical body. It would be a hard eleven years, one nastier and much more destructive than the last few months Hermione and the others had been hunting Horcruxes and fighting off Snatchers.

Who was to say Bellatrix would never be persuaded again to join the dark army? Eleven years was a long time, and so many things could happen. Not to mention, Narcissa was still going to marry Lucius one day, and he’d become a Death Eater. It would give Bellatrix a tie to the army whether she wanted it or not. Plus, there was still Bellatrix’s own marriage to Rodolphus to contend with. Hermione had never known if the two girls were a part of an arranged marriage or if they chose to marry their future husbands. She had never seen Narcissa so much as look in Lucius’ direction, much less interact with him like Bellatrix and Rodolphus did. They were friends, maybe more already, with how handsy he got with her sometimes, but how long would that last if she knew him and his brother were the reason Andromeda was in the hospital right now?

Bellatrix already barely tolerated Rabastan, that much was clear from how she had kicked and humiliated him in Hogsmeade all those weeks ago for so much as insulting Andromeda. What would she do if it came out he was responsible for nearly killing her? Rabastan had no defense to his actions- he knew exactly who he was shooting at. Was it only timing that had him hitting Andromeda of all people, instead of Hermione or Ted, or had the attack been deliberate? Some score to settle against the fifth year or her sister?

There were so many things for Hermione to think about and no time, for as she was currently sat in a secluded area of the library, Daniel found her and took a seat across from her. 

“Hey, Hermione,” he smiled at her, sitting down one of the thick History of Magic books Professor Binns assigned them to write a report about. The ghost was just as boring in this time as he was in Hermione’s, though she was nearly finished her assignment. From the looks of it, Daniel was yet to start his. “Bloody impressive what you did at Hogsmeade.”

It was a genuine struggle to hold back the groan at that statement. Rumors had been flying left and right ever since the attack, and everyone had heard about Hermione’s participation. All the Slytherin sixth and seventh years had watched her run without hesitation into the battle from their common room, and were quick to spread that with their friends. Before she knew it, everyone was talking about her, Andromeda, and Ted. Most of what they were all saying was rubbish, exaggerated tales of how Hermione had used the dark magic spells she learned from Durmstrang on a horde of five Death Eaters, and left all of them with melted insides. 

“So I’ve heard,” she drily responded, flipping through her own textbook before her. Ancient Runes was one of her favorite courses, and she was easily breezing through this week’s assignment. 

“Everyone’s heard how you just ran out of Hogwarts to fight,” Daniel continued, completely unaware of how unenthused Hermione was to be having this conversation right now. “Maybe you’ve got a bit of Gryffindor in your blood, eh?” 

_You have no idea_ , she thought with a huff. “You probably choose the worst house to say that to,” she laughed, remembering that she _was_ in Slytherin, and Gryffindor was their enemy. It shouldn’t be taken as a compliment that she has a bit of Gryffindor in her. 

“Yeah, but- you aren’t like the other Slytherins, you know?” Daniel said, and then fearing he had insulted her, he was quick to add, “I just meant that you don’t care I’m muggle born, and you _did_ run out to fight. That doesn’t really follow your house Moto.” 

Hermione closed her book with a laugh, figuring she wasn’t going to get much reading done with Daniel here, and that he most likely wouldn’t really work on his own assignment either. “I’m not insulted. I have no problem with any other houses. And I see no difference between pure-blood and muggle-born students.” 

“You sure you’re from Durmstrang?” He joked more, and to that Hermione did laugh loudly. “Aren’t they known for their, like, hatred of muggles and muggle borns? Pretty sure they’re all about blood purity, right?” 

“I went to Durmstrang because we lived in the area, not because my parents followed those bigoted ways of thinking so many pure-bloods have.” She couldn't keep the anger out of her voice as she spoke, her mind going to one particular pure-blood and then to the scar on her arm. Bellatrix was probably the most stubborn person she’s ever met, how was she to change her convictions? 

“Well, I’m glad you transferred. It’s nice having you here.” Daniel’s cheeks pinked slightly as he said it, but Hermione didn’t think much of it at the time. He changed subjects quickly by asking, “Hey, how's your friend? Bellatrix Black’s little sister?” 

“Madam Pomfrey still has her under a sleeping draught while her body heals,” Hermione responded thickly. The Matron of Hogwarts kept Andromeda sedated for the last two days as magic worked on growing back the muscle, fat, and skin Antonin’s spell wrecked. Apparently it was nastier than regrow the bones, if Harry had stayed awake for that but now Andromeda was rendered unconscious. But she’d live, that much was guaranteed. 

“Sorry to hear that. She’s pretty nice, from what I’ve heard. Nothing like Bellatrix, at least.” 

“Yeah...” Hermione said slowly, thinking that her friend was more similar to her older sister than not. They were both just as reckless, both devoted whole heartedly to their causes, enough so that they would not balk from facing the other on the battlefield, should it have come to that, and both would die to protect the ones they loved. 

When had it all gone wrong for Bellatrix? Hermione couldn’t figure it out. She could see how the girl loved her sisters, and how they meant the world to them. Bellatrix would join the Dark Lord soon, but Andromeda’s relationship with Ted Tonks would not go public until they graduated in two years. Did Bellatrix turn her back on her sister then, or does it happen soon? Hermione just couldn’t see Bellatrix so willingly walking away from the sister so she clearly adored, even knowing how much she would grow to worship Voldemort. 

She bid goodnight to Daniel not long after that, preferring to be alone while she thought everything over. She had only just returned to the Slytherin common rooms and sat in one of the empty chairs by the fire when none other than Bellatrix came in through the stone wall. 

Her dark eyes were red rimmed once more, her cheeks flushed with near visible anger as she came to a halt before Hermione. The brunette was already preparing herself for an unavoidable argument, but Bellatrix surprised her by saying, “Andromeda is awake.” 

In an instant Hermione was on her feet, ready to rush to the hospital wing and see her friend, but something in Bellatrix’s tone stopped her. The two of them had not interacted since their conversation on the lake, and while with any other person Hermione would have taken that as a positive step forward, she doubted it would be that way with Bellatrix. 

“She told me what you did.” Each word sounded as if the dark witch was chewing glass, and her face reflected that as she scowled at the roaring flames in the fire place. “That you... saved her life and chased after the person who attacked.” 

Hermione hadn’t known Andromeda was still awake for that part. She had already told Bellatrix that it was Antonin Dolohov who struck her, and she had not missed the reaction between the two sisters at the name, but did Andromeda know as well then? More than anything Hermione craved to know how Bellatrix felt about her sister being attacked by people she would soon stand beside. 

“I went after Antonin Dolohov and hit the tree he was hiding behind with the explosion spell,” she confessed. “And I stunned him, but after the professors found us and they went to grab him he was gone. Another Death Eater must have found him and apparated him away before we could get to him.” 

Bellatrix nodded, but said nothing else for a minute. The common room was mostly empty, many of the students still out roaming the grounds with their friends before curfew, and so there were not many around to interrupt them. 

Finally, the dark haired girl said, “I still think you’re a dirty vermin blood-traitor, but I... _appreciate_ your saving my sister.” 

Hermione couldn’t help but smile at that admission. Maybe this _was_ a step in the right direction. “I like your sister. I don’t want to see anything bad happen to her again.” Bellatrix nodded once more, and Hermione figured now was a good point to end the conversation and go visit Andromeda. She had moved to the stone wall, and was about to push through it before she stopped and spun to look at Bellatrix once more. “You aren’t terrible either.” 

The last thing she saw before running towards the hospital wing was Bellatrix’s scowl, only half hearted at best. 

Definitely progress. 

* * *

She didn’t bother trying to contain her relief and excitement upon seeing Andromeda propped up on a pile of pillows, eyes still fuzzy from the potions. She gave a broad smile when Hermione threw herself into the chair on the side of the bed, immediately interlocking their hands. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you right now,” Hermione confessed, her own eyes slightly misty and all thoughts of her conversation with Bellatrix left her mind as she stared at her friend.

Despite being asleep for days, Andromeda still looked exhausted. Heavy circles lined her eyes and her skin still held a pale color to it, not as terrible as it was when she had lost so much blood, but still worrisome enough.

“And here I was thinking you’d yell at me like Bella,” Andromeda laughed, the sound not as loud and heart filled as it should have been coming from her. “She was... not pleased.”

“She was scared, you idiot,” Hermione barked, thinking back to the night of the attack, and then at the lake and how distraught the eldest Black daughter had been. Her love for her sisters was undeniable, and the risk of losing one must have been heavy in her mind that first night. “And she’s furious at Narcissa too.”

Yes, Bellatrix and Narcissa had been snappy at one another since the confession came that the youngest sister knew what Andromeda had been up to was revealed. They barely interacted save for arguing with one another, and Narcissa had even taken to sitting with other friends during meal times instead of with Bellatrix as she normally would have. 

Andromeda blanched, and looked at Hermione with a raised eyebrow, waiting for her to ask the inevitable question. Hermione merely raised an eyebrow in return, and the fifth year sighed. “Ted asked me on a date, and I told him we should wait until the dinner party in Slughorn’s office, that way Bellatrix wouldn’t be around to ask why I was sneaking off.” She paused, and shifted to adjust herself better on the mountain of pillows, her gaze now on the high arching ceilings. “I told Cissy, and begged her to keep it a secret. Bella pretends I’m not even friends with Ted... she’d lose her mind if she knew I liked him like that.”

“Narcissa told Bellatrix she knew why you were at Hogsmeade that night,” Hermione confessed, figuring it best to give Andromeda a heads up in case she was yet to know.

“I know. After Bella made sure I wasn’t about to die on her she started yelling about how stupid I was for going out with Ted. We were screaming back and forth, and she even looked like she was about to cry. She called him some horrible names and then she stormed out.” 

A throbbing pain shot through Hermione’s left arm and she knew just what kind of names Bellatrix had called him.

Hermione gave an encouraging squeeze to Andromeda’s hand. “Don’t listen to her. She’s... blinded by-”

“By my whole family’s beliefs?” Andromeda questioned, an almost scowl on her pretty face. In that moment, she looked so much like Bellatrix it was startling. “That isn’t an exaggeration either. My entire family has made it clear what their stance is on muggle born wizards. Well, all but my little cousin.”

Hermione’s heart took on a weird beating pattern at that. “Your little cousin?”

She knew exactly who Andromeda meant before she said, “My aunt and uncle’s oldest son, his name is Sirius. He’s not quite... a rough as everyone else, I guess,” she shrugged, the movement must have hurt her side as that shrug turned into a pain filled wince. “Can you hand me that cup of water? Thanks.” Once she had drank half of it, Hermione waiting with bated breath, she continued. “He asks me about them somethings, muggles and their world. I don’t have much to tell him, but I don’t think he’s as... disillusioned about the world as the rest of my family.” She laughed then, clearly thinking of something funny regarding Sirius. “He’s nine right now. He’ll be here in two years and I already know he’s going to give this school hell.”

 _Indeed he will_ , Hermione smiled, remembering all of the stories she had heard about him and Harry’s father, what the two of them, along with Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew will soon get themselves into. But the thought also made her pause, and consider what life would soon be like for Sirius once he was placed in Gryffindor, the first of his family to ever not go into Slytherin.

“Are you... close to Sirius?” Sirius would join the Order almost immediately upon graduating Hogwarts, and while Andromeda herself never officially joined, she would one day offer her home to them, and her own daughter would support them as well.

“I guess. Bella’s closest to him, though, when he’s not asking worrying questions about muggles. She likes how mouthy he is, and how much he argues with our aunt and uncle.”

That... Hermione had not been prepared to hear. She never would have guessed Bellatrix to be close to the younger cousin she was to one day murder. Sirius would be with his family for another seven years, until he turned sixteen and left to live with the Potter’s, with the best friend he loved more than anything else, save that man’s son. Had it hurt him to leave his family? Hermione had always viewed Sirius as rather aloof, a suave type of man who renounced his pure blooded family without a second look back. She hadn’t considered he would have liked his family members, especially Bellatrix.

Andromeda, unaware of Hermione’s inner turmoil, kept speaking. “Our parents used to send us to stay for a few weeks with my aunt and uncle in the summer when we were younger. They have this summer home in the French countryside, and when we were little we’d spend hours chasing each other through the forests, all five of us. They’re some of my most cherished memories.” She turned somber quickly, and frowned at nothing. Not once had she met Hermione’s gaze, and Hermione could recognize that right now, her friend just needed to talk about nothing substantial, just a family she so obviously missed. Most of this conversation could probably be credited to whatever potions were still in her system, the ones that kept her eyes partially unfocused and her brain most likely a little fuzzy.

“The summer Bellatrix was to first start Hogwarts was our last summer there. After that, our father decided we were too old to run around and get dirty with the boys. We only see Sirius and his little brother Regulus during holidays or events now.”

“It sounded like you had a fun time with Sirius,” Hermione said quietly, slowly processing everything Andromeda had told her. Sirius was close to their side of the family, closer than expected. He had never so much as hinted that he felt any sort of connection or attachment to Bellatrix or Narcissa.

The fifth year licked her lips, dry and chapped, and Hermione passed her the cup once more. “Bella’s different,” she said quietly, the change of topic so sudden it took Hermione a second to catch up. “She’s not the same girl who taught Sirius how to climb a tree. She’s not even the same girl who used showed us all how to race brooms, and would comfort us when we cried. Even if she was the one who knocked us off to begin with.”

Hermione figured it would be wise to keep her mouth shut on that one.

“I know you guys don’t get along, but I promise Bella hasn’t always been this...” Andromeda made a funny motion with her hand that was clearly meant to represent her sister, which made Hermione snort. “I told her she should be nicer to you, that I’m alive thanks to you and Ted.” 

“What, uh, what did she say?” Hermione asked, a bit uncomfortable but also relieved. If Andromeda did tell Bellatrix to be nicer to her, she may have unintentionally made Hermione’s job here that much easier. Of course, that would be if Bellatrix actually deigned to obey. 

Andromeda shrugged, her eyes drooping more heavily now and Hermione knew it was time to leave. She had been there for more than an hour now, and her friend had to be exhausted. “She said she’d try.” That explained Bellatrix’s behavior prior to Hermione coming to the hospital wing, and her admission of being glad Andromeda had her as a friend. With a pleased smiled, Hermione left the hospital wing. 

_Try_ ended up being a rather generous word to use when describing Bellatrix for the next few weeks. The school went back to normal eventually, Andromeda was released from the hospital wing and easily rejoined her role of Prefect with little interference, and life resumed the same as ever as the freshness of the Hogsmeade attack faded from everyone’s mind. 

The attack must have soothed something within the dark wizards, as no news about any more attacks spread throughout the Wizarding World. They had accomplished whatever it was they sought to, and fell back into the nerve-racking quiet that meant the Dark Lord was planning something else, or gathering more of his forces. 

The main difference that had appeared since the attack was that Bellatrix now whole heartedly ignored Hermione. Gone were the snide comments about her last name, gone were the less than nice nicknames, gone even was the brutal arguments the two were known to get into. 

Hermione would have enjoyed all the negative aspects of interacting with Bellatrix being gone, had it not come at the price of losing any positive ones as well. They were a long way from being considered friends by any means, but Bellatrix had been occasionally friendly. She had accompanied Hermione on the walk back from Slughorn’s after their dinner party, and even went as far as to compliment how Hermione looked in her outfit. 

And then there was the time they spent together at Black Lake the day after Andromeda’s attack, when their conversation had been the nicest and easiest it had ever been before. Not to mention Bellatrix allowed Hermione to heal her face that night when she did not return to the common room until very late, and offered no justification for her appearance. Hermione though they were heading in the right direction- slow, and questionable if they’d make it by Christmas, but still the needed path- but clearly that was not the case. 

Bellatrix had no interest in Hermione beyond begrudgingly recognizing her as the girl who saved her sister, of the girl who- despite their rocky interactions- kept her secrets about her injuries and scars. And so she pretended she no longer existed, like their conversations after Andromeda was hurt did not exist either, and so Hermione went through the days trying to convince herself that this was just a set back, and that she somehow hadn't messed up her chances to ever truly befriend Bellatrix and save them all. 

Part of her wished Andromeda had never told Bellatrix to be nicer to Hermione. They were doing fine enough on their own, but she couldn’t very well explain to the fifth year why it was so important that Bellatrix not pretend Hermione didn’t exist and that the two of them actually befriended one another. How could she have ever explained that one day, Andromeda’s sister would one day stand beside the darkest wizard the world had ever seen? That her name were be whispered with nearly the same amount of fear as her Lord's?

Not to mention the absolute fall into insanity she would one day have. Hermione sometimes forgot that would be the case as well, if she were to fail. That, yes, Bellatrix would turn dark, but she would lose her mind in doing so, become something so utterly unrecognizable and basically not human. 

Or that she would never speak to Andromeda again, would never know the daughter she would one day have? 

None of that was very easily explainable, and so Hermione resolved herself to the fact that maybe if she just waited this out, Bellatrix and her would go back to whatever they were before this. 

Later on, the most exciting thing to come to Hogwarts since the attack happened in the last weekend of October, when Slytherin was scheduled to play Hufflepuff in Quidditch. It was to be an intense match, as Hufflepuff needed the win to rise above Gryffindor in the house cup and be in third place. Slytherin needed the win to either tie with Ravenclaw for first or top them. Both sides had reason to put their all in the game, and it had been a brutal one to watch. 

Once again Andromeda had dragged Hermione to the event, and she had sat in the bitingly cold morning air, more and more of the students bundling themselves up in their scarves, while the two teams entered the field. As the last time, Hermione found herself utterly awestruck when she watched Bellatrix soar onto the field, that overly expensive dark wooden broom tight between her legs as she arched up into the air, the other two Slytherin chasers close on her heels. 

It always left Hermione feeling breathless as she watch Bellatrix look so carefree when she played Quidditch. She had seen the dark witch arrive back at the common room after a brutal practice, sweat or rain soaked, her hair an even more tangled mess than usual, but always so much more relaxed than when she had left. Quidditch was something that calmed her, that was able to break through her icy exterior and reach the girl that just wanted a bit of thrill. 

Hermione knew that same thrill would be lighting up Bellatrix’s dark eyes now, as she watched the Hufflepuffs move in an organized pattern throughout the field. She just knew Bellatrix was waiting to knock them off. 

After a few moments of both teams flying, the professor reffing the game blew his whistle and both sides fell into their positions, and once the balls were in play the gloves came off. 

It was more than obvious both teams were out for blood. This match was much more violent than even any Slytherin or Gryffindor matches she had watched Harry and Ginny play, and most of the match was spent with her hand over her mouth at the brutality of each hit. Both teams seemed to be playing the same style- hurt the other until that team was forced to forfeit. 

Narcissa, seated on Andromeda’s other side, had made a few comments about Bellatrix’s stupidity and aggression when the eldest Black nearly lost her balance trying to get the Quaffle more than once. The two of them seemed to be on fine enough terms now, though it had taken them a while to get back to wherever they were before Narcissa admitting to knowing why Andromeda was in Hogsmeade that night. 

For the next couple of days, neither girl could be in the same room as one another without a screaming match taking place, and it only got worse when Andromeda was released from the hospital wing- and most definitely took Narcissa’s side in the argument. After a particularly physical fight between Andromeda or Bellatrix, with Narcissa screaming at Bellatrix for being a pigheaded idiot, a lot of other students from their house had taken to leaving the room if the sisters were all together. Even Hermione often found better places to be, and preferred to hang out with Andromeda in the library or courtyard. The three of them furious with one another was worse than when Ron had been mad at Harry for entering the Triwizard cup, and Hermione had barely tolerated that. 

Luckily, or unluckily depending on who was asked, the Black sisters fight all came a head one night when Andromeda took five points from Slytherin due to Bellatrix. Even Hermione had to admit her friend took the points to be petty with her sister. And Bellatrix had responded in kind. By hitting her sister with a gross vomit inducing spell. When Andromeda sent her own back, too swiftly for Bellatrix to throw up a shield, the two of them had spent the next hour puking side by side, screaming at one another in-between, and left the girls’ bathroom back on normal terms. 

Hermione wasn’t quite positive over how Bellatrix and Narcissa stopped being pissy towards one another, but if she knew Bellatrix at all, it was most likely due to the older girl refusing to acknowledge the betrayal any longer, and pretending everything was back to normal. Narcissa must have gone with it, as she was here at the match to cheer on her sister. 

When the match had been going for over an hour, and Slytherin was up by forty points and no Snitch insight, the Hufflepuffs upped their game a bit more, and Slytherin did not fail to meet the challenge. Beaters on both sides attacked more fervently, and even Hermione sucked in a panicked breath along with Andromeda and Narcissa when Bellatrix only just managed to dodge the bludger aimed right for her head. 

Bellatrix had dropped low enough to avoid it, but her teammate beside her had not seen it coming.

The entire stadium held their breath as everyone watched the bludger slam into the sixth year’s head and knock her from her broom as she plummeted to the ground. All the Slytherin members acted as once, and raced to try to stop the lethal fall. Even Bellatrix tried to catch the unconscious girl, but was unable to catch her as she continued to fall. It had been Steve, their captain, who managed to grab the girl fast enough, though the momentum was strong enough to knock him from his own broom and slam him into the ground, the girl unmoving on top of him. 

Professors rushed onto the field as all the players grounded themselves to circle around the downed pair. The prefects all moved as well, each ordering their own houses to began heading back to the school while the professors assessed the injuries the girl had. 

The last thing Hermione saw before she walked away with Andromeda or Narcissa was Bellatrix holding her hand out to pull Steve up, and did not miss the way the girl’s dark eyes widened at the sight of the blood on his broad chest, staining his uniform. 

* * *

November first brought something Hermione had not been ready for. She had gone so long without any sort of interaction with Bellatrix that she was not ready to stumble across the older girl, alone and furious. She was also not ready for the way Bellatrix screamed at her as she walked by her in the hallway. She had been ready for the attack though. After months of being around Bellatrix, she knew that a mad Bellatrix meant a hex was not far off, and was able to deflect the first attack, and even the second attack. 

Hermione had sent her own back, but the girl was just so unfairly fast. No one should be able to shoot spell after spell so quickly like that, and so unfortunately she had not been able to block the third hex that felt as if fire was exploding on her thigh. 

She blamed it on her pain addled brain that convinced her sending the exploding spell at the girl was the right idea. 

It missed, thankfully, as her aim was a bit off from the pain, but it did slam into the wall of portraits beside them, and it did send a shower of wood and canvas on top of Bellatrix, infuriated portrait people screaming as their frames were destroyed and Bellatrix screaming as well. It was no surprise that a professor found them not even a minute later, and promptly escorted them to Dumbledore’s office. It spoke to the seriousness of the situation that they were being led to the Headmaster, and not to Slughorn again. 

“Very interesting that when I hear of students fighting in the halls, my mind immediately goes to the two of you,” Dumbledore said in his deep rumble, looking over the rim of his half moon glasses at the two girls currently sitting across from him. 

For her part, Hermione was quite embarrassed and ashamed to be sitting before the Headmaster, feeling like a scolded child as she sat stiff back and uncomfortable. Bellatrix did not seem to feel the same, and scowled down at her shoes as she slouched in her seat. 

The sight did little to dismay Dumbledore, and he continued on without hesitation, his gaze directed entirely on the older witch. “It is also interesting, Miss Black, that every time you return from an outing with your father, you cause some sort of mishap with other students, is it not?” 

What? Hermione turned to stare at the girl beside her, her dark eyes hardened and a firm scowl on her face as she glared at the headmaster. Hermione knew if Bellatrix was looking at _her_ like that, spells would start flying soon. But the dark witch made no move to even so much as response as crossed her arms. 

Dumbledore did not scowl her for the insolence, or even showed any sign of irritation at the sight, and Hermione realized... realized what an insight he had given her, be it intentionally or not. Bellatrix had been with her father today, and came back furious enough to attack her unprompted. It was pattern enough that even Dumbledore had noticed it, and it only added more to the tangled web the witch’s life made up that Hermione struggled to navigate. 

“Both of your skills as witches speak for themselves, and I do believe you have the capabilities of bringing very good things to our darkening world,” he started, and Hermione frowned. This did not sound like he was punishing them, more so going on one of his tangents that only he understood the true point of. “It would be a true outrage if those talents were wasted due to uncontrollable tempers or ill-planned reactions.” 

Neither girl said anything in return, and so Dumbledore continued to talk. “I have turned a blind eye to many things in regards to the two of you, but I no longer will, and you will no longer so readily throws spells in the hallway- where it is against the rules, I shall remind you- or in any other Hogwarts location save for under direct supervision by a professor.” 

She had never been scolded by Dumbledore before (McGonagall, most definitely, but never him) and found she hated it most of all. Apologies were on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t seem able to force the words out, even as her cheeks were stained a deep red and her bottom lip was sucked in between her teeth. 

“Professor Kettleburn has informed me that come next week, he will be announcing a project that requires partner work between students to care for a creature, together. I’ve taken it upon myself to request your professor assigns the two of you as partners.”

Nope, this was definitely a punishment. Hermione opened her mouth to- to argue or to plead or to something, but a pointed look from Dumbledore kept her silenced. Bellatrix looked as if she would rather feed herself to one of the magical creatures than hear anymore of this conversation. 

“Furthermore, Miss Potter, I couldn’t help but notice you are not involved in any extracurriculars.” Oh, she had a very bad feeling about what that was alluding to. “You’ve been at Hogwarts for two months now, certainly you wish to have further involvement and get to know more of our students.”

“Well, I-” In truth she hadn’t considered doing, well, anything outside of her coursework and dealing with Bellatrix. In her own time, she had created S.P.E.W., but as for involvement in actual _extracurriculars_? “I suppose I hadn’t thought about it, professor.” 

“Not a problem,” Dumbledore said lightly, and Hermione felt dread growing steadier and steadier in her stomach. “It is quite a disappointment to your house that the Slytherin Quidditch team will be unable to play to rest of the year as you are now one player short.”

That dread turned to a heavy, heavy ball of lead in the pit of her stomach and she knew exactly what was coming. 

“Perhaps you would be interested in filling that spot.” 

Bellatrix yelled out, “Absolutely not!” at the same time Hermione tried to say, “I really shouldn’t-” but it was the older girl who stood quickly from her seat, her usually pale face red with anger. “We will lose,” she hissed. “She’s never played a match in her life! I’ve never even seen her on a broom!” 

“Now, now, Bellatrix, Durmstrang has a much more rigorous athletic program that Hogwarts. I am sure Hermione has received extensive training on riding broomsticks, given how often her previous school produces witches and wizards who are recruited for National level Quidditch play.” 

Hermione frowned at the hole Dumbledore dug for her. She did not like riding brooms, or being high in the air at all. She was quite content to be on the ground. Quidditch was Harry’s thing. And Dumbledore knew she had no training of the sort so why would he do this? Was forcing them to be partners not horrid enough? 

The witch beside her was just as agitated, though none of her very loud (and rude) arguments she was currently making to Dumbledore seemed to sway him. 

“I will tell Steve Laughalot to expect the both of you on the field for tomorrow’s practice. The two of you may return to your dorms now.” 


	8. VIII

Hermione loved learning. It was an indisputable fact about herself that was well known. Any bit of knowledge she could get her hand on, she cherished it all, and thrived in environments where she could show those skills off. Never before had she come across a topic she had no interest in learning about, even those taught by Professor Binns. 

As it turns out, she was proven so incredibly wrong the next morning when she slowly followed a steaming Bellatrix onto the Quidditch field way too early in the morning. How Harry and Ginny did early morning practices with little complaint was beyond her in that moment. Unfortunately, it was made worse when Steve began slowly going through the new plays they would be trying out that week. 

It was the most mind-numbing hour of her life as he pointed to individual X’s and O’s on the board. The entire time, Bellatrix barely watched the captain as she glared at Hermione. Oh, she had made her feelings on Hermione being a member of the Quidditch team quite clear once they left Dumbledore’s office last night, and still did not seem to have gotten all of her thoughts out of her head by the way she leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. 

Hermione couldn’t deny she felt quite the same. Dumbledore’s decision had first come as a damnation, but then later that night as she laid in bed, she thought of the branch he was extending her, and how this very well could be her salvation for everything. Maybe this wasn’t a punishment at all, but the headmaster’s way of helping Hermione complete her mission. It was known he meddled more than he should, but maybe this was one that would pay off in Hermione’s favor?

When she woke up before the sun had risen, went to her very first practice on an empty stomach, and listened to Steve say what had to be the same things over and over again, her mind went right back to this definitely being a punishment, and it was most likely not her salvation. 

“Right,” Steve clapped his hands together, and all of them jerked their heads up to look at him. None of the other players had been anymore pleased than Bellatrix was about Hermione’s joining the team, and had made their dissent very vocal, until Steve all pointedly reminded them that had it not been for Dumbledore having Hermione join the team, they’d be benched the rest of the year, and therefore out of the house cup competition. It was enough to keep them all quiet for now. 

Most likely until they saw Hermione on a broom. 

“Potter, get one of the older brooms from the shed. You’ll have to use that for now, and hopefully you’ll be able to get a decent enough one before any games.” Steve directed her to an old shed close to the field, and she didn’t bother admitting she had no money and therefore no ability to buy a broom of any quality. She’d use whatever broom was in the shed and they’d all have to deal with it. 

She found one, a lighter colored one with some of the twigs twisted on the end. Honestly, it looked in worse condition than the practice brooms they all used their first year, but Hermione trailed back to the pitch and mounted the broom along with everyone else.

* * *

Andromeda had a wicked smile on her face when Hermione found her in the library later that day, looking much too pleased with herself. Books about ancient runes covered the table she was at, a parchment of paper with only her name and one lone sentence on it in front of her. A quill with drying ink lay untouched to the side, evidence enough of the lack of work she had completed. 

“I don’t want to hear it,” Hermione groaned as she dropped into the seat across from her friend, who still wore a mocking smile so much like Bellatrix’s. “I really don’t want to hear it,” she stressed again when Andromeda just kept grinning. There was no doubt in her mind Bellatrix had already told her sister all about the embarrassment that was Hermione’s attempt at Quidditch. 

“But I want to say it,” Andromeda teased, closing the book closest to her as she apparently decided to be done writing her paper entirely. “Bella was unusually happy today.” 

“I don’t think your sister knows what position she plays. From the way she kept trying to knock me off my broom, one would think she was a beater.” As she spoke, Hermione rubbed the sore spot on her thigh where the bludger at hit her earlier. How her friends did this sport every week was beyond her as every muscle in her body ached, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in the library chair and pretend this morning never happened. 

“From what I heard, you didn’t need much help getting knock off your broom.” 

“I’m reconsidering helping you with your assignment,” Hermione growled as she rubbed a sore spot on her side. The other players hadn’t been putting their all in during practice, but even with them pulling punches the multiple bludgers that hit her still left a painful mark. 

It had all gone pretty terribly right from the start. Steve had them doing _simple_ plays (so he said) and she had been unable to keep up. Not only had she not been anywhere quick enough to follow the rest of the team, but she was not a fan of being so high off of the ground, and her nerves must have showed, because after only a few minutes of her hesitant and shaky flying, Steve called for a time out. 

And then Bellatrix had taken to commenting on every single thing Hermione did wrong (which was a lot), and the third chaser, a sixth year boy named Sebastian had been just as critical as Bellatrix, the two of them partnering up to ridicule Hermione for the remainder of the practice. 

The two beaters, at least, had taken it somewhat easy on her. Even if bludgers did hit frequently, but that was probably credited more to her inability to move away quickly than them trying to do much damage.

Practice had seemingly gone on forever, and everyone left the field pissy and annoyed at having Hermione on the team. She couldn’t really blame them, though Bellatrix’s and Sebastian’s comments were unnecessary as they walked back to the castle. Everyone was understandably annoyed, given how every point was needed to ensure they won the house cup at the end of the school year. 

“Bella was very... thorough in describing practice today,” Andromeda continued, and barely moved fast enough to avoid being swatted by Hermione. “Okay, okay! I’m done.” She sobered up, and said, “I’m sure you’ll pick it up quickly. You’re smart.” 

It did little to console Hermione, and her already terrible mood only worsened the more she thought about how much she sucked at Quidditch. Athleticism was never her strong suit in general, but competitive athleticism was especially not her forte. 

“Let’s just work on your Ancient Runes course,” Hermione sighed, silently cursing Dumbledore, McGonagall, Bellatrix, every person in the world really, as she sat through and helped Andromeda on her worst class. 

The two of them sat in the library until over a foot of words had been added, and it was then that Andromeda leaned back from the table and rubbed her eyes. “I’m going to meet up with Ted soon, do you want to come?” 

She did, and she said as much. Ted hadn’t been around as frequently as before the Hogsmeade attack, which Andromeda credited to him wanting to avoid running into Bellatrix or even Narcissa. Though their feud about him seemed to be over, he apparently didn’t want to risk putting Andromeda into a worse place with her sisters. That, or he just plain didn’t want to interact with them. 

Hermione couldn’t blame him for feeling either way. 

The two of them quickly packed up their belongings and started walking towards the castle’s exit, where Andromeda explained Ted was on the grounds with some other friends. Even as every step ached with her sore muscles, Hermione was looking forward to interacting with people who truly had no interest in how much she sucked at Quidditch. 

* * *

“Get up,” a gruff voice said close to Hermione’s ear much too early one morning, followed by a tight grip on her upper arm that shook her body side to side as she grumbled. “Get _up_ , Potter.” 

Hermione blearily cracked an eye open and found none other than Bellatrix Black standing over her bed, fully dressed despite the early hour, and the sight was enough to bring Hermione to complete consciousness as she sat up. “What’s wrong?” She asked as she wiped at her eye to remove the remnants of sleep. Today was supposed to be the one day this week she was able to sleep until her regular schedule, as every other day Steve had them waking up much too early to get acclimated to playing with Hermione. And give her every single bit of practice opportunity as possible. She’d need it all. She figured out of everyone, Bellatrix would be the most thankful about sleeping in. 

And yet here she stood, arms crossed and scowling at Hermione. A usual occurrence whenever she looked in the brunette’s direction. “We’re going to the field. Get dressed.” 

“Why? There’s no practice today,” Hermione grumbled, her whole body aching from the week of physical exertion she had put it under. 

“Oh, no practice? I wasn’t aware today was our one day off thanks to you.” The sarcasm was heavy in Bellatrix’s tone as she shoved at Hermione’s shoulder once more, who shrugged the offending appendage away. “You suck,” the dark witch said bluntly. “So we’re going to work on that.” 

If Bellatrix hadn’t been so painfully right, Hermione would probably have even decently offended at being told she sucked at something. It wasn’t in her nature to not be exceptionally good at things, and not being able to master something so many others did so easily _was_ driving her mad. 

It was that thought that had Hermione leaving the warmth and comfort of her bed and telling Bellatrix she would change and join her in the common room, which she did a few minutes later. The dark haired girl was impatiently leaning against the stone wall, obviously more than annoyed at having to wait for Hermione to put on proper clothes, and said nothing as she walked through the wall, letting Hermione rush to catch up. 

There were no other people in the halls, and most of the portraits were still asleep in the early morning light as the girls walked towards the double doors leading to the outside. The air was overly brisk without the sun shining to warm them up, the wind carrying a biting chill as they crossed the grounds to the pitch. They made a stop at the shed holding their brooms, Bellatrix pulling out the dark wooden and expensive one while Hermione grabbed the same beaten one she used in their first practice. 

“Don’t use that one,” Bellatrix demanded as she pulled out a longer broom, the wood lighter than Hermione’s now, with more chipped pieces and frayed twigs. It looked in considerably worse condition than the other, but Bellatrix just said, “It’s ugly looking but faster than that piece of shit. More nimble, too. Use it.” She snatched the one out of Hermione’s hand and shoved the new one it in, and Hermione decided to keep quiet about her biting tone. 

In this situation, as much as she loathed to admit it, she knew next to nothing, and Bellatrix clearly had the upper ground when it came to knowledge about brooms. If only Ron or Ginny could be here, preferably the latter, as while the former would explain the difference, he would undoubtedly take great joy in knowing something Hermione did not. 

It really wasn’t much difference than what Bellatrix was doing now, as she made no effort to hide the pleased grin on her face. Hermione held back her own rude response and just walked to the field until she stood in the center, and waited for Bellatrix to give her some sort of pointer or command. 

Unsurprisingly, Bellatrix offered no sort of comment as she mounted her own broom and kicked off, easily soaring high into the still darkened sky and racing straight up. It was only when she was decent ways off of the ground did she level out, and yell down to Hermione, “What are you waiting for? Get up here, traitor.” 

Had Hermione not been so utterly focused on staying on her broom, she might had resented the mocking laugh Bellatrix sent her way as she slowly and wobbly rose up on the broom, much less elegantly than Bellatrix did. After she had a few feet of distance between herself and the ground, she stopped, and looked up to Bellatrix. 

Who was already staring down at her with an unimpressed look. 

“I assumed you knew this, rat, but Quidditch is played up here,” she said dully, the mockery clear in her voice as Hermione once again forced the broom to get closer to Bellatrix, and once again stopped it after only a few short moments of movement. “If this is how it’s going to be, we are never getting anymore.”

“Do you have anything _positive_ to say?” Hermione finally snapped, more than a little annoyed that she was well out of her comfort zone and Bellatrix didn’t even have the decency to acknowledge that. “I am not used to doing this, and here you are _ridiculing_ me like a stupid child. _Forgive me_ for not knowing how to ride a broom! Not all of us can be Quidditch prodigies.” 

Even from her position below Bellatrix, she could visibly see the girl scowl at her with a raised eyebrow. After a beat of silence of both girls just staring at one another, Bellatrix said, “If you’re done acting like a stupid child, we can get on with this.” 

“You’re so unbelievable!” Hermione threw one hand up in exaserbation, and then immediately latched back on when the broom wobbled too much for her comfort. “I have no idea why I’m even trying so hard to learn. I have _no_ interest in Quidditch or winning! I’m doing this for yo- for the house. But, honestly, I’m not going to bother anymore. This was pointless. I’m going to back to bed.” 

“You’re choking the broom,” Bellatrix said when Hermione began lowering herself even further, the girl obviously choosing not to properly respond to Hermione’s outburst. “You won’t be able to make sharp turns if you keep your hands like that.” 

Every part of Hermione was telling her to keep moving until her feet touched the ground, and return to their dorm to pretend this disaster of a morning never happened. But... Bellatrix’s tone had change from ridiculing her lack of skills to just assessing what she was doing. 

With a deep and relaxing breath, Hermione forced herself to gain altitude once more, and with a racing heart, she continued to rise until she reached Bellatrix’s height. “Okay. What do I do with my hands then?” 

Bellatrix wasn’t even holding onto her own broom, instead sitting low on the end and her hands dangling at her side, a bored look on her face. Not once did the broom jerk or droop; she had the utmost control over the tool and knew it. “Move your hands higher up. When you keep them where they are now, it makes the broom harder to move.” For emphasis, she mimicked Hermione’s hand placements on her broom, and then shifted them upwards, closer to the top end of the stick. “If you have to keep your hands on your broom, keep them around here. And move your thumb like this, don’t keep it up on top like that. Yeah, that,” she said as Hermione did as instructed, sliding her hands towards the top and fixing her grip. 

The broom wobbled a bit with the movements, but thankfully remained in the same position after Hermione righted herself. It was a bit embarrassing to struggle like a first year in front of Bellatrix, but she knew little more than the introductory level of riding. 

“You’re too tense,” Bellatrix added after a moment of watching Hermione bob up and down. “Merlin, you ride exactly how they teach you in first year.” 

Hermione didn’t bother pointing out that had been the most she’s ever ridden. Bellatrix needed no extra ammunition in making fun of her, especially when she was showing a rare side of being pleasant. She wanted to make this unusual mood last as long as possible, especially since it was directed at her and not one of Bellatrix’s sisters. 

“Remember, you’re a chaser. All you need to care about is speed and accuracy when throwing the ball.” Over the next several minutes, Bellatrix instructed Hermione on a few of the basic maneuvers of riding, and for the most part kept her snarky comments contained as she just offered frank suggestions on how Hermione could improve. And there were a lot of ways she could do so, starting with how tight her thighs held the broom, to her posture, to how she pulled up the front of her broom when she felt she was moving too fast. The list went on and on, and it was only when the sky had lightened to the late morning did Bellatrix call it quits. 

“I’m starving,” she explained when both of them landed on the dewy ground. They were panting and a bit more sweaty than Hermione enjoyed, but... 

Hermione didn’t want to leave the field. 

_This was very nice_ , she realized, staring at Bellatrix’s reddened cheeks and the short wisps of hair sticking to her forehead. There had been many moments Hermione saw Bellatrix having fun; arguing a point in class, studying with her sisters, or playing a real match all came to mind, but right in this moment Bellatrix looked relaxed, so untypical of her, but the look on her face, the grin was less vicious and teasing than usual, almost genuine. 

“Bellatrix?” Hermione started off, slowly trailing behind the girl as they walked back towards the shed. When the dark witch turned to look at her, Hermione hesitantly said, “I really do appreciate you helping me.” 

Bellatrix’s dark eyes widened a fraction before her smile shifted into something much more playful, and Hermione already could tell the response would be anything but polite. But for some reason, she couldn’t find it in herself to really care, even as Bellatrix shrugged her shoulders and said, “Well, someone had to. You’re making us all look bad, and there isn't a better player than myself.” 

Hermione let out a real laugh at that statement, to which Bellatrix looked startled once more before she too let out a gentle laugh, so much differentiations than the cackling high pitched noise she would be known to make. It was soft, and sweet, and Hermione thought it was one of the nicest sounds she had heard in a long while. 

She was still pondering that thought when they placed their brooms back in the shed and walked side by side back to the castle to make the last few minutes of breakfast. 

* * *

Slytherins shared the Care of Magical Creatures with Gryffindor, and most classes Hermione spent it alongside Daniel, who had also chosen the elective. She was quite surprised to find Bellatrix had enrolled in the course as well, as she figured the girl would be like her future nephew and have no interest in such a topic about ‘beasts’, but Bellatrix didn’t seem to complain about the creatures they’ve cared for so far, mainly being fire crabs or salamanders.

“So what kind of creature do you think it is?” Daniel asked as he stood beside Hermione, both of them among the cluster of other students as they waited for Professor Kettleburn. He had took them all two days ago they would be starting a new assignment today, the very one Hermione had been dreading as it meant she would be forced to work alongside Bellatrix, but she was intrigued on what the animal would be. “Maybe a Niffler? Or a a Murtlap?” 

The possibilities were theoretically endless, as there were countless creatures throughout the Wizarding World on all the different continents, not to mention so many that were not yet discovered.

“Is your leg okay? You’re standing odd.” Daniel frowned as he looked to Hermione, who had most of her weight on her right foot, keeping her left bent slightly. 

She grimaced as she tried to ignore the pain in her ankle from the rough fall she had taken the night before. Bellatrix had hit her harder than she was expecting, and she landed poorly on her ankle. Months ago, even a week ago, Hermione would have said it was intentional, but she had seen the way Bellatrix’s eyes widened in shock and how quickly she dipped her broom to rush towards Hermione. 

It had ended up being nothing more than a twisted ankle, and Bellatrix’s quick spell work kept the joint from swelling up, but less than twenty-four hours later her foot was still a bit too sore to keep her weight on it without feeling uncomfortable. Bellatrix had been uncharacteristically concerned, and even offered to cut their practice short in return for helping her limp to the hospital wing. 

Hermione had denied the offer, but Bellatrix did end practice, and insisted they at least returned to the common room. She didn’t stick around after Hermione sat on the couch, but did add, with only a slightly uncomfortable and unsure tone, that Hermione should ice it or it’ll just get worse. 

It was all a bit surreal, and even a day later Hermione couldn’t get her mind off of it, or off of how the past week had truly seemed to shift her and Bellatrix’s relationship. 

“Quidditch practice,” she explained, frowning down at her leg in annoyance. 

Daniel laughed, and then gave her pitying look as he scratched the back his head. “Yeah.. we all heard you’re a new chaser for Slytherin. How’s that going?” 

“Well, I’m not longer worried I'm going to fall off of the broom.” If only due to Bellatrix knocking her off more times than she could count, only when they were low enough to the ground for it to not do any damage. But it had worked to cement the belief that were she to fall from a higher ground, one of the other players would do their best to catch her. Hopefully. “But Bellatrix is helping me train, and it’s working, so.”

“So I guess I’ll see your skills this weekend?” Daniel smiled, his tone a little higher than usual, his cheeks a bit redder. “Gryffindor and Slytherin face each other. It’ll be fun to play against you.” 

It was a fact Hermione didn’t quite want to face just yet. She had her first real match this weekend. Breaking into the Ministry of Magic? Fine. Facing Death Eaters in the Ministry and at Hogwarts? Also fine. Breaking into Gringotts by impersonating a Death Eater who had tortured her? Nerve-wracking but she did it, and took it one step further by escaping on the back of an abused dragon. But the idea of actually playing the sport, of facing another team who owed her no obligation to look out for her, and in front of the entire school? Not fine. 

“Don’t remind me,” she huffed as their professor finally came onto the field, and talking between students began to quiet down as the professor held up a hand. 

“Gather around, everyone, gather around. We have quite the opportunity here, one students before you have never had! After discussing the logistics with the other heads of houses, we have decided to present such a unique occasion to our seventh year students.” Kettleburn’s one good arm brushed his silvered hair away from his face as he looked at the amassed crowd. It was clear he was giddy over whatever ‘opportunity’ they all had, but most of the students were a bit apprehensive over what that could mean. They were all well aware of his tendency to indulge dangerous creatures. His multiple limb losses were testament to that. 

Kettleburn continued speaking as he led them towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and all of the students looked at each other curiously. It wasn’t often they were so readily brought into the forest. Usually, Kettleburn would bring the creatures to their section of the field reserved for this course, but never lead them into the forest.

“As you can all see, this particular assignment will take place in the Forbidden Forest. I do think I need to remind you how dangerous the area can be, even in the daylight, and must demand you do not stray away from the area I have marked for us for the next few weeks. This assignment is a privilege, not a right or requirement to pass my course. That being said, anyone who fails to listen to directions will find themselves in detention during this course time for the remainder of the semester.” 

Hermione could only hope that Bellatrix was not one of the students to be asked to leave for failure to follow directions. In classes she was relatively obedient, and tended not to talk when the professors were, and did seem to enjoy the lectures presented to them for the most part, but then again whenever Bellatrix was told _not_ to do something...

“I’m still saying Nifflers,” Daniel whispered to her as they finally came to a stop in a relatively dense part of the forest, the tall trees blocking most of the light from the early afternoon sky and leaving most of areas shrouded in shadows. Their focus was on a small burrow, most under ground, but partly built around a thick tree. 

“Nifflers don’t live in burrows,” Hermione said back, waiting for the rest of the students to move around to be able to see the leaves and sticks. “And it isn’t a Murtlap either.” She was running through all the creatures she could think of that would be small enough to live in this sized burrow, interesting enough to justify Kettleburn’s excitement, and rare enough they would not have worked with them at Hogwarts before. 

She came up with nothing, and the thought bothered her. 

“Now, a few ground rules need to be covered before revealing our wonderful creature.” Kettleburn snapped his fingers to gain back everyone’s attention from the small burrow built around a thick tree off to the side, and everyone was now much more invested in finding out what the animal could be. “This creature is typically a nocturnal one, and has become very rare in the last few centuries to the point many believed it extinct. As you can tell, that is incorrect.” 

Hermione craned her neck to try to see inside the burrow, but the bundle was so densely packed with thick leaves and dirt the interior was completely encased in darkness.

“These creatures can be very easily offended, and if that is the case they will abandon you in the middle of the nigh and will never be seen again. I implore you to remain respectful the entire time while working with them, as we will not get such an opportunity for some time. They are also infants, and will require more care than the adults otherwise would.” Everyone began whispering about what it could be, and Kettleburn just smiled as he bent down to stick his hand in the burrow. A high pitched whine was heard, obviously disgruntled at being disturbed, the sound not unlike a baby’s cry, and when Kettleburn righted himself, a tiny and fuzzy tan creature was in his palms. He held it up in the air for all to see, and the beast squeezed its already closed eyes tighter at the sudden light. “Students, I am so very pleased to announce we will be working with Brownies!” 

Holy Merlin-

 _Brownies_?

This definitely was not one of the creatures she thought they would be working with today. 

Hermione had read about the creatures more times than she could recall, and was always very intrigued about their livelihood. When the Wizarding World first formed in the 13th century, Brownies had been used as house servants just as frequently, if not more, than elves. It was only when the Brownies began to revolt, and leave their masters in the dead of night as Kettleburn had warned, did pure bloods switch over entirely to elves, who had their own magic and were bond through magic that made them unable to leave the households unless given clothing.

Ever since then, Brownies had fallen out of favor in the Wizarding World, and many people did think they had died off, Hermione included. As far as she knew, no research had been conducted on them in over two hundred years due to their rarity, so to be able to do so now was.. it was... _marvelous_ didn’t even do it justice.

“Now, we have twenty of us and ten Brownies, so we will be pairing up. I have taken to assigning partners- no, don’t complain- as I was saying, I have assigned partners, so when your names are called, please line up aside one another to receive your Brownie.” He pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket, and Hermione was already making her way to Bellatrix, who she discovered also looked fascinated. She was such an enigma of a person. Every time Hermione thought she had Bellatrix figured out, the girl went and surprised her again. Being interested in caring for a Brownie was not something Hermione ever thought Bellatrix would find exciting. 

By the time Kettleburn called both of their names, they were already beside one another and ready to take the creature. The professor handed a fat and sleepy one to Bellatrix, who took it in an unusually gentle grip, letting the creature curl into a ball in her hands as she stared at it.

“He’s fat,” she commented as the two of them walked away to join the group of students also already carrying their own. Hermione had to agree with Bellatrix- looking around, most of the others were relatively longer and thinner, whereas theirs had a noticeably rounded stomach. 

“He’s cute,” Hermione added as she lightly ran a finger down the creature’s brown peach fuzz that covered its overly wrinkly body. He wasn’t as furry as most animals, and his longer arms and legs were almost humanoid as he burrowed further against Bellatrix’s warm hands. 

Kettleburn finished assigning each pair a Brownie, and got everyone’s attention once more. “A female Brownie can have up to twelve babes at a time, and typically they do become full grown and go on their own after five or six months. As you can tell, these we have here are much too young to be on their own, and we believe their mother must have been killed by something in the forest. Hagrid found them a few days ago during one of his walks, and reported back to Professor Dumbledore and myself. We are estimating they’re only a week or so old, but do keep in mind we do not know nearly as much as we would like about the species. Your jobs will be to feed the creatures until they are able to on their own, and then keep them in line when they began trying to clean everything in their sight. It’s in their nature to tidy things up, and can oftentimes become aggressive if denied the right to do so.”

He began guiding the students out of the forest, and Hermione noted everyone was cooing over the cuteness of the sleeping creatures- of which she was no better. Bellatrix did hand the Brownie over, but when he began to omit a high whine when Hermione was holding him she was quick to pass him back to Bellatrix, who did not bothering hiding her mocking grin at the fact that it quieted down immediately.

“We’re moving them from the forest to one of the abandoned sheds on the grounds. They enjoy dark and dilapidated places, usually basements in manors when they worked as servants, but this will do well to keep them safe from predators. Each class we will report here to care for the creatures. Make sure to write down everything you discover! At the end of the semester I am expecting a four foot parchment essay on them!” 

More than a few of the students groaned at that, and Bellatrix made a snide comment regarding where the professor could place the four foot essay, but Hermione had no complaints. It just gave her even more of a reason to take extensive notes about the Brownie, which she was already planning to do.

“This is very exciting.” Hermione couldn’t help herself as she stared down at the Brownie, still sleeping and pressed against Bellatrix. “Should we name him?” 

“I don’t see why we would,” Bellatrix responded as they reached the old shed, the wood warped and faded with age and weather, but the inside was warm, protected from the chilly wind. Kettleburn had readied the building for the Brownies, as there were ten small sections of beds made of more twigs and leaves, and the two of them walked to one in the corner. 

When Bellatrix attempted to place the Brownie in the nest, he whined louder and tried to cling to the girl. She used her other hand to wiggle him off, and the whining only increased for a moment before he settled down into a small ball on the nest. 

“Everyone needs a name,” Hermione insisted, even if she thought the creature was a bit of a traitor for so readily liking Bellatrix more than herself. 

“There is no reason to name a creature we will stop feeding in just a few weeks. If you name it, you’re going to get attached.” 

“He’s already attached to you. He likes you,” Hermione pointed out, and did not bother hiding her jealousy at the statement. 

“Awe, little rat, don’t fret, _someone_ likes you.” Bellatrix gave a pointed look behind Hermione’s shoulder, and then said, “He hasn’t taking his eyes off of you all afternoon. Does the blood traitor have a little boyfriend?” 

Behind Hermione, when she turned to see who Bellatrix was teasing her about, she found Daniel staring at her, his cheeks as red as they were earlier, and he gave her a hesitant wave when he caught her eyes. 

Hermione smiled back before moving to look at Bellatrix once more, and noticed the girl scowling at Daniel, her eyebrows bunched together and her eyes dark. 

“Bellatrix?” 

“What?” She snapped at Hermione. Then, she rolled her eyes and shook her head, and turned back to the sleeping Brownie. “Is this _all_ he is going to do?” 

In an effort to not ruin whatever weird semblance of a friendship the two of them were currently working their way toward, Hermione decided her best course of action would be to not point out how Bellatrix’s own cheeks were slightly reddened, and instead chose to listen as Kettleburn explained what they would be doing. 

Feeding, mostly, just making sure the creature survives past infancy and can begin caring for itself. But they needed to be fed multiple times a day, twice by the students, and the remainder by Kettleburn and another professor who volunteered to help. 

“In a week or so, they will hopefully be up and about, and it will become very interesting watching them roam the shed! They move fast, so watch you do not lose your Brownie!” 

Hermione couldn’t even imagine the way it would wreck her grade if they somehow managed to lose the rare creature, so she quickly turned to Bellatrix. “Please, please, keep in mind this is my grade on the line as well,” she begged, even though Bellatrix was a top ranking student as well, she wouldn’t put it past her just to mess with the grade to spite Hermione. 

They might be friendly or acquaintances now, but Hermione had a feeling Bellatrix would still quite enjoy getting underneath her skin just because. 

Unfortunately, Bellatrix just shrugged, and poked the rounded belly of the Brownie. He whined once more, and rolled closer to Bellatrix’s hand. Instead of promising to behave, she merely said, “What do you want to name it?” 

Hermione thought on it as she tried to run her finger down his back, only for him to scooch closer to Bellatrix once more. She scowled at the creature and pulled her arm back as she crossed her arms, ignoring Bellatrix’s loud (and surprisingly real) laughter, even if the sound did bring a smile to her own face. 

* * *

“Is it true you’re really working with Brownies?” Andromeda asked the moment her and Hermione crossed paths the next morning. Word spread quickly about the seventh years working with the rare creatures, and many of the younger students were grumbling about wishing they had been able to interact, and a few other seventh years were moaning about not signing up for the elective. 

One passing Hufflepuff complained, “If I knew that course would actually be fun this year I would have join!” 

“Bella says you have a fat one,” she said as they stopped in the hall that would lead them to their separate classes. “Will you take me to see him when you go feed him today?” 

“No, this is an assignment for a _grade_ , not some after school activity!”

Hermione shook her head at her friend’s indignant huff, and was about to walk away when she heard Andromeda grumble, “That’s why he likes Bella more.” 

She spun around quickly to correct the fifth year, because the Brownie did _not_ like Bellatrix more than her, but found the girl had a knowing, and completely mocking, grin on her face. She was Bellatrix’s twin in that moment, indistinguishable from one another save Andromeda’s slightly lighter hair. But everything else, from how one corner of her mouth quirked up higher than the other, the crinkles around her eye, it was purely Bellatrix.

“I’m not giving in.” Hermione rolled her eyes at Andromeda’s laugh and crossed her arms. “And don’t ask Bellatrix to take you either; I’m not compromising my grade because you want to see a Brownie.” 

Andromeda just said, “I figured you’d say that, nerd, so I asked Bella first. See you at lunch!” She didn’t acknowledge Hermione yelling for her not to join them when they went to feed the Brownie, whom had been affectionately named Fatty by Bellatrix, despite Hermione’s pleas to name it literally anything else. 

She was nearly to her next class when a presence made itself known beside her in the form of wild dark hair and pale skin, as Bellatrix fell into step next to her. “Potter,” the girl said a bit stiffly. 

“Uh, hi, Bellatrix.” Hermione’s tone must have conveyed the question she didn’t voice: _why are you walking with me?_ as Bellatrix kept looking straight ahead and ignored the curious glances of passing students, most likely wondering if their altercation would once again turn physical right in the halls. 

“It’s Hogsmeade weekend,” Bellatrix finally supplied as they were only a short distance from the classroom. Hogsmeade would happen after the Quidditch game on Saturday, and if Hermione was lucky she’d survive the match to join her fellow students. Bellatrix hadn’t relented in their training, and Hermione did have to admit that, despite her being quite brutish when it came to practice, she did feel considerably better about everything. 

“It is,” Hermione agreed, unsure where the witch was taking this conversation. 

The dark haired girl was visibly growing impatient at the lack of... whatever it was she wanted from Hermione as she snapped, “Well?” 

“Well _what_?” 

“Are you _going_?” 

“Doesn’t everyone?” 

“Why are you-” Bellatrix groaned, and glared at Hermione as they both came to a halt outside the classroom door. “I don’t understand why everyone thinks you’re so smart, traitor.” 

_Who does she think she is?_ Hermione frowned at Bellatrix as she sent her own glare, wondering why this conversation felt like it was going so horribly wrong, even when she had no idea in what direction it was really suppose to be going. But, she sighed, and to keep whatever tentative peace was between both of them, said, “Yes, Bellatrix, I’m going with Andromeda. Are you?” 

“I am.” 

“Okay?” 

Bellatrix huffed and started walking into the classroom, leaving Hermione no choice but to follow her lead. It wasn’t until she got to her own seat did she hear Bellatrix’s slight mumble of, “See you there, Potter.” 

What in Merlin’s name was all that about? 


	9. IX

Hermione’s foot tapped the ground quickly, her entire leg shaking, and her heart beat at a much too fast pace as she leaned against the wall of Slytherin’s part of the pitch. They’d fly out through the entrance on Hermione’s left, and overtop the field while the school observed below before they all fell into formation.

The other six members of the team listened as Steve prattled on about last minute reminders, and the more he talked about Quidditch the more he reminded Hermione of Oliver Wood. She couldn't help but wonder if Steve would try to drown himself in the showers as well if she messed this match up. The thought did nothing to calm her racing nerves as she rested her head back against the wall with her eyes squeezed shut.

“As funny as I’d think it’d be if you passed out, you should probably take a breath,” a voice from Hermione’s right said, and she didn’t need to open her eyes to know Bellatrix had moved to stand beside her, forgoing listening to Steve talk strategies to talk to her (or mock her, more like it). “Why are you nervous? It’s only the entire school watching your every move.” 

“I’m really not in the mood for this, Bellatrix,” Hermione said, her voice barely above a whisper. It was nearly impossible to drown out the sounds of the raucous students on the stands outside, all of them impatiently waiting for the game to begin. How did her friends _do_ this all the time? It really felt like her heart was about to combust and she’d instantaneously die.

Bellatrix made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort, but moved to stand closer to Hermione. “You need to take your mind off of the game. You know what to do, you’re stressing over nothing right now.”

“That’s pretty much what I do.” 

“Oh, I’m aware. Think of something else,” Bellatrix said, her voice dipping into that near mocking tone she so favored when talking to Hermione. “Like... how much better I am than you at Transfiguration, or Defense Against the Dark Arts, or- really anything, actually. Maybe think about the obese Brownie. How much he adores me and despises you.” 

Had it been any other morning, had it just been Bellatrix ridiculing her for no reason, Hermione most likely would have become furious and started arguing back. But she wasn’t too far lost in her stress and worry to not recognize this for what it was; Bellatrix’s attempt to distract her from her nerves. And it was working, if only because-

“He’s not _obese_ ,” Hermione defended Fatty, and she could feel the corners dipping up into a little smile. Fatty was most definitely as his named implied, the the last few days they had spent feeding him, he guzzled down milk and scarfed down every last bite of food. And still completely ignored Hermione existed, unless she was the one holding the bottle. “And you aren’t better at our coursework either.” 

“But he still likes me more.” Bellatrix’s voice was sing-song like now, her face split into a wide grin that was nothing short of vicious beauty. Her hair was pulled into a braid once more, her uniform tight fitting, molded against all her hard earned muscles. “And I am a better dueler.” 

_That_ much was true, though Hermione would never say that out loud. There was just something so... savagely elegant about how Bellatrix duels. Nothing like the organized and well planned battles they learned about in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and something worse than when Hermione had faced other Death Eaters or Snatchers. It had taken an army of top ranking Aurors to capture her for the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom, and even then not many Ministry workers had walked away from that fight unscathed.

“I thought you were supposed to be making me feel better,” Hermione responded with a roll of her eyes. “All you’re doing is inflating your already large ego.” 

Bellatrix had no time to reply, as Steve instructed them to mount their brooms moments before the announcer called Slytherin to enter the pitch, and all seven of them kicked off of the ground to fly into the air. 

Hermione’s hands were sweating inside her leather gloves as she came to a halt beside Bellatrix and Sebastian, all three of them waiting for the release of the Quaffle so they could begin their play. Steve had given Hermione a relatively simple job; if she gets the ball, throw it to one of the other chasers. Otherwise, she was supposed to stay out of the way as long as possible. 

Her pride might have been hurt had she not agreed with Steve. She’d been practicing with Bellatrix, and then as well with the team, but what was one week of practices compared to the team’s years of playing together? And Gryffindor’s years of playing with each other as well. Hermione was the outlier here, both in her lack of skill and her considerably less amount of air time to everyone else. 

Daniel was a reflection of Hermione on the field, in the same position and side, and he gave her a friendly nod as everyone watched the ref walk onto the ground in the center and open the chest. A moment after the ref blew her whistle, she released the bludgers first, and both beaters on either team soared upwards to chase the vicious balls. Hermione tightened her hands around the broom as the ref went to toss the Quaffle into the air, and right as the six chasers made to go after it, Hermione swore she heard Bellatrix say, “Good luck, Hermione,” before the dark haired witch went flying to be the first to grab the large ball. 

Playing a real game was so, so different than practice with the team and with Bellatrix. Both types of practices were fast paced, and her teammates did not go too easy on her, especially Bellatrix, but it ended up being nothing compared to playing against people that had no problems hurting her a bit to secure a goal. 

And it seemed Hermione was the target today. 

More than once in the short time since the game began did she narrowly avoid a bludger to the face, despite her not yet having the Quaffle. It was still in Slytherin’s possession, bouncing back and forth between the other two chasers, but an opening to score hadn’t presented itself yet. That did nothing to sway Gryffindor from aiming at her, and it got to the point Steve called for a time out when she once again was nearly knocked from her broom. 

“They’re being bloody fucking vicious today,” he said once they all huddled up on the ground, Gryffindor in their own group across the pitch. “They’re being smart, they know you’re a last resort. If they get rid of you, we forfeit for the rest of the season.” Steve frowned and looked around the team, before his gaze settled on Bellatrix. “I have an idea. It could absolutely break us, but-”

“Let’s do it,” their keeper nodded his head, all of them desperate to score and end the game. “We’re barely making any progress. Whatever you have in mind, we might as well try. Teach those dirty lions a lesson.” 

Steve explained quickly, and oh, Hermione could not say she liked it. She hadn’t practiced for this. She had practiced for getting the ball and tossing it to one of their better players. Their captain ran off to tell the ref their adjusted lineup, and though Hermione could see the professor frowning, she did nod her head in acceptance. 

When the whistle blew once more, Hermione held one of the bats in her hand, and now raced alongside one of the beaters, the second one now holding Hermione’s original place between Bellatrix and Sebastian. Steve had given her one when he relayed his hastily made plan: “teach those fucks a lesson, Potter,” and explained that if they wanted to throw bludgers at her all day, she’d be throwing her own right back. 

It was a shot in the dark that the ref would agree, as even though it wasn’t terribly unheard of for players to switch positions, it was very rare indeed. However, Steve had pointed out nothing in the rules said they _couldn’t_. And so the ref had to agree, and now Hermione was swerving through the air, tracking the opposing team’s beaters and chasers, while also keeping the bludgers in mind. 

_There_. 

One of the nasty balls came flying past her, and she swung wildly at it. 

And missed. 

The extortion of swinging the bat caused her to become wobbly on her broom, and it took a moment to reclaim her balance. When she saw Gryffindor laugh at her clumsiness, well... 

They might have been her true house, but right in this moment she was going to teach them a lesson. 

The next time one of the bludgers arced by her, she did not miss. And the laughing chaser holding the Quaffle, heading right for Slytherin’s goal, _her_ house’s goalpost, did not see the ball until it slammed right into his back. 

Slytherin cheered, all across the stadium, everyone yelled at the bark of pain the Gryffindor gave as he dropped the Quaffle, Bellatrix quick to fly underneath him and rip it from the air before she darted off to the opposite side of the field. 

Hermione was too focused on following the bludgers, her other beater teammate close by, offering last minute instructions, to watch what Bellatrix did, but by their house yelling once more, she knew they had finally scored. 

Let the game begin for real then. 

She no longer felt nervous about being on a broom, and was determined to make everyone watching realize she belonged here just like everyone else. 

* * *

Hogsmeade weekend still brought a sense of joy to all of the students, who all seemed inclined to forget the tragedy that befell the sleepy little town, as nearly everyone from their year was dressed out of their robes and itching to leave the castle.

Hermione was as excited as the rest of the students, and rushed through showering the sweat from the match off of her and changing back into her clothes, before meeting Andromeda and Ted in the courtyard. Bellatrix and Narcissa were nowhere to be found, though Hermione knew they’d be running into the other Black sisters sooner or later, seeing as Bellatrix had weirdly asked if Hermione would be present today. 

“Bloody good match, Hermione.” Ted high fived her when she walked up to them, and she couldn’t keep the smile off of her face as they followed the large group of students in the direction of the village. “I gotta admit, there were a couple times I thought you were gonna take a bludger to the face!” 

Everyone had been talking about Steve’s last minute plan to switch Hermione to a beater, and she had shocked them all by being much better at that than a chaser. So many members of Slytherin had come up to her afterwards to congratulate her on a hard-won match, and she couldn’t keep the smile from her face the entire time. 

It only widened when Bellatrix approached, her braid mostly disbanded and pieces of hair sticking to her sweaty forehead as she bumped her shoulder into Hermione’s in passing and called, “You’re welcome for all that training, little rat.” But her laugh was real, and her eyes twinkled with- well, that looked like pride, before she walked away to join others. 

“ _I_ thought you were going to fall off your broom,” Andromeda laughed, as supportive as ever, even as she slipped her arm around Hermione’s to walk together. “In fact, I even bet with Bella you’d fall. Man, I owe her money.” 

“You bet on me!” Hermione scowled at her friend, but didn’t bother holding back the laugh, mainly as the second part of Andromeda’s statement sunk in. “Bellatrix bet I _wouldn’t_ fall?” 

The fifth year nodded, her attention on the crowded group of students they were walking through. “Oh yeah. She said you were shockingly decent at flying. Outright praise, coming from her. Told me I’d eat my words after when the match ends and you hadn’t fallen.” 

“Don’t _bet_ on me,” Hermione said, trying to sound stern but even she could tell the humor of the situation leaked into her tone. “I’m surprised she thought I wouldn’t fall,” she added in a much lower tone. 

“She was impressed today, you know. You surprised us all being a decent beater. Who would have thought?” 

Hermione was still pondering the thought when they met up with none other than Bellatrix and Narcissa, both girls in a relatively heated argument about- something. Hermione could hardly keep up with what the sisters fought over, and knew they would be fine with one another soon enough. Sure thing, once they noted the arrival of Andromeda, they silenced their most likely petty argument and joined the three of them. Both Bellatrix and Narcissa gave Ted a wide berth, and the fifth year pretended not to notice, not as Andromeda snapped at her sisters to knock it off, but Hermione could tell this was a step in a positive direction, no matter how slight. 

It was a relatively quiet walk with the rest of the students, but surprisingly not uncomfortable, and even Bellatrix walked beside Hermione with ease, neither one of them feeling any desire to get into a usual argument or skirmish. In fact, Hermione had not felt the desire to scream at the oldest Black daughter for some time, and had even come to enjoy her company and presence. 

They had even entered into an easy and pointless conversation about their courses not long after they started walking, both of them debating the merits of using a particular defensive move over others. Bellatrix took the side of forgoing defense at all and working on the offense whenever possible, which was no shock there, though she was all ears when Hermione shot back her own reasonings for a strong defense. 

Neither one noticed they had reached Hogsmeade, too enthralled in talking to one another, and only when Andromeda pulled on Hermione’s arm did she realize, and end the debate with Bellatrix, though she did not want to. 

Honeydukes was a packed as ever, all of the students excited to be able to replenish their long since depleted stashes. Hermione, Andromeda, and Ted had to squeeze their way between the tightly packed aisles until they reached a corner of exquisite chocolates. Bellatrix and Narcissa had walked in the opposite direction initially, though not five minutes had gone by before the older girl returned to them, complaining about Narcissa talking to another third year and her being bored. Andromeda reached for a pack of candy, before moving on to a sweet section next to the chocolate, Ted following behind. 

“I wanted to say thank you for taking so much time to train me,” Hermione said once it was just the two of them. She was looking at chocolates she would not be purchasing, just to have something to do as she talked. “I know you did it so Slytherin had a slightly better chance at winning, but still- none of the other teammates offered. So... thank you, Bellatrix.” 

Bellatrix just gave a shrug, her attention still on the candy before her. “I very well couldn’t risk Slytherin’s good name being tarnished, now could I?” 

“That’s true,” Hermione agreed, before a smile spread across her face as she turned to face Bellatrix head on. “But Slytherin’s good name had nothing to do with you betting I wouldn’t fall today.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Sure.”

“Really, vermin, I have no clue and-”

“Andromeda was not happy at having to owe you money,” Hermione said with a shrug similar to Bellatrix’s, knowing the movement would annoy her further. And it worked, as she scowled at the action and cursed her sister’s name. “It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone your secret.” 

“And what secret is that?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Potter-”

“Well, that we’re friends now, of course.” 

Andromeda, Narcissa, and Ted returned before Hermione could catch Bellatrix’s reply, but based on the crooked upturn of her mouth and the less than annoyed roll of her dark eyes as Andromeda announced they were tired of being jammed pack in this store, and wanted to go somewhere else. 

Hermione had to agree. She was feeling a bit claustrophobic at the crowded store, and exploring some other place sounded lovely right now. She voiced that, and the two of decided a trip to Scrivenshaft's could be fun. Bellatrix and Ted trailed behind, the former grumbling about going to a quill store, but following the path to Honeyduke’s exist all the same. 

Steve and the beater who played as chaser today, a girl named Victoria, were waiting right outside of Honeydukes when Hermione stepped out with her friends. Both of them had smiles on their faces that were not at all reassuring as they watched Hermione walk away from the building and closer to them. Bellatrix was beside her, a bored and somewhat annoyed look on her face as she moved to stand beside her teammates. 

“Potter,” Steve said, looking from Victoria to Bellatrix then back to Hermione. “You have to come with us.” 

“Why?” 

“We’re celebrating,” he said simply, before looking to Andromeda, Ted, and Narcissa standing near them. “Hey, Andy. Baby Black. Mind if we borrow your friend?” 

Narcissa rolled her eyes at the clearly less than enjoyable nickname, and Hermione couldn't help but notice Steve did not acknowledge Ted at all, but the fifth year student seemingly didn’t care as he simply threw his arm around Andromeda’s shoulders while the middle Black child replied, “Can’t you hold off on your celebration until we’re done with her?” 

“No can do, Andy, it’s her first won game!” Victoria laughed, the sound mellow and sweet. Everything about her was gentle, from the soft curls of her blonde hair to the warm brown of her eyes, until you faced her on the Quidditch pitch. She was nearly as ruthless as Bellatrix when it came to ensuring their team won, and would go to any lengths to do so. 

Andromeda scowled at the Quidditch players before she turned to Hermione, her arms crossed. “You should go,” she said anyway, nodding to her sister. “You earned whatever stupid celebration they have in mind.” 

Victoria made a ‘come on!’ motion with her hand, and Hermione looked between her new teammates and Andromeda and the others. She was slightly curious about what it meant to celebrate, though part of her felt guilty for abandoning her friends like that. But it was Andromeda who shoved her towards the captain of Slytherin with a laugh, and said, “We aren’t even gonna miss you.” 

It was Hermione’s turn to roll her eyes, but allowed Steve and Victoria to lead her away from Honeydukes, Bellatrix walking beside the blonde girl and talking quietly. 

They kept walking, further through the village until they reached a section of woods that would take them to a part of Black Lake. It was a path Hermione had walked many times before, and her curious just kept spiking at what sort of initiation would take place at Blake Lake. There wasn’t too much more time to think on it, as Steve came to a halt not longer after, and Hermione moved to see why. 

The three other members that made up the Slytherin Quidditch- Sebastian; the second beater Ryan; and the keeper, a boy whose speed rivaled that of even Harry’s at times, Tony- were already sitting down around a magically created fire, the blue of the sparks lighting up their tiny area and giving off a munch needed degree of warmth in the chilled weather. 

And beside Sebastian, securely nestled into the sand, was three bottles of firewhiskey. 

“Uh-” Hermione balked at the sight of the alcohol, as even though she was technically of age, she had no clue how old anyone else was. Not to mention they’d all have to return to the castle at some point tonight, and it would reflect terribly on the entire team if they were caught drunk and amped up with stupid courage. 

“Tradition, Hermione,” Steve explained as he plopped down beside Ryan, Victoria following and claiming the empty spot on their captain’s left. Two spots were left open in their make shift circle, closest to the water and side by side. Bellatrix sat down first, shifting to sit crossed legged, with her ever present black dress stretched across her legs and her arms in her lap. How she was freezing in that outfit was beyond Hermione. 

She did sit down, frowning at the feeling of the cool sand pressing into her pants, and eyed the rest of the group warily. No one had given her any sort of inclination the team had a tradition to celebrate someone’s first win, and she had no clue what to expect, especially with firewhiskey now in the mix. 

Bellatrix definitely had not given her any heads up during any of their early morning or late night trainings, but she should have expected as much. Knowing the other girl, she would most likely being enjoying watching Hermione go through whatever initiation process Slytherin had for her. 

And it obviously involved a decent amount of alcohol. And was starting immediately, as Ryan easily undid the cap on the first bottle and held it up. “To Hermione!” He cheered, the blue fire reflecting off his light eyes and the dark amber liquid of the alcohol. “A shockingly good beater!” 

The rest of the team cheered loudly at that, and Hermione flushed at all of the attention being on her, even if it was her being teased, albeit friendly. 

She rolled her eyes, and when Ryan tried to hand her the bottle, she frowned. “I don’t really drink,” she said simply. 

“It’s a celebration in your honor, Hermione,” Victoria said as she sipped from the bottle, right from the glass. “You sure?” 

She wasn’t, not really. In any other time, she would have said no without hesitation, would have not thought twice about declining the alcohol, but they were celebrating, weren’t then? 

And for once in Hermione’s time at Hogwarts, there was not threat of her and her friends being killed, no professors sneaking in dark wizards or failing to protect the students, no dangerous chess games and no uncles facing execution. She was having fun for once in her life, and though the people now around her would never replace Harry, Ron, or Ginny, they were her friends as well, or close enough to it. 

There would be time later to think about Voldemort and Bellatrix’s path, and this stupid mission, but now? It wouldn’t make a difference in her job if Hermione remained sober or had one sip of whiskey, would it? 

It wasn’t like her to do this, but maybe it was time to stop being herself, if only just for this one night. 

“Actually,” she spoke up, and took the bottle from Victoria. She hesitated only a moment before raising the bottle to her lips, and cringing at the burning sensation that overtook her when the alcohol slid down her throat. It was through effort of wills that she didn’t gag, and passed the bottle to Sebastian. 

That... wasn’t so bad. And nothing happened, no professor came out of nowhere to scold them for drinking, no dementors swarmed them to give them a kiss, nothing happened. 

Hermione felt her shoulders relax, and when the bottle was offered to her once more, she didn’t even think before she grabbed it again. 

What felt like only minutes but had to be much longer, judging by the sun’s new position much lower in the sky, Ryan announced they had finished off the first bottle, and were halfway through the second. 

“It’s time for your initiation!” Steve said, his voice much louder than it needed to be, a sure sign he was definitely feeling the effects of the whiskey. None of the others were fairing any better, everyone much more slouched and relaxed than they had started, their voices louder and more boisterous. Even Hermione had drank way more than she thought she would, her stomach warm and her brain hazy as she watched the blue flames flicker in the gentle breeze. 

The whiskey had chased away the chill of the night, and she had discarded her scarf and robe, now only in her school issued skirt and blouse. She’d even taken off her socks and shoes, and had her toes buried in the sand. 

“What’s my initiation?” She partially slurred, finding it somewhat hard to keep her eyes all the way open as her head kept lolling to the side. _Definitely too much alcohol_ , she silently chastised herself. But she was on a high after the win, and had let herself get absorbed into the celebratory atmosphere her teammates had created in her honor. It was nothing like her, in fact she had even scolded Ron for trying to drink before, and even though she technically was of age, she knew it was only due to present company she had left herself drink like this. 

Not that she had any complaints right now. She was having more fun than she’d had in a while, and didn’t want it to end. Bellatrix was beside her still, using Hermione’s robe as a makeshift pillow from where she lay on the cool sand. 

She looked absolutely lovely right in that moment, as the dimming sun bounced off her dark and wavy hair, her eyes closed against the light and an empty bottle of whiskey against her side. Her dressed was a bit bunched up from laying down, the hem higher than Hermione had ever seen it and leaving pale, toned thighs on display. 

Bellatrix had drank as much as everyone else, and was now much more relaxed than Hermione ever seen before, her tone much less hostile as she enjoyed being surrounded by people she genuinely liked. And she had talked to Hermione more than the others, staying by her side throughout the afternoon as they passed bottle after bottle back and forth, and Hermione was finding it increasingly hard to take her eyes off of the girl. 

It was only when Steve’s words settled in her brain did she look up, and found Steve, Ryan, and Victoria already standing, Steve reaching for the hem of his shirt. 

“Uh-” Hermione couldn’t help the small hiccup that came out and made Tony laugh, as she frowned at the scene of the three of them beginning to take their clothes off. Another minute and Sebastian and Tony were forcing themselves to stand, slightly wobbly, and moved to remove their own shirts. “What’s... this?” 

“Your initiation,” Steve said again, now shirtless and letting the item of clothing drop onto the sand as he undid his belt. “We’re swimming.” He jerked his head to the lake at Hermione’s back, and grinned at her. “Everyone’s done it their first time. Bellatrix threw a fit when she had, but me and her did it together, isn’t that right, B?” 

Bellatrix’s answer was for her to throw up the peace sign, her pinky not quite bent all the way down, and she let her hand pitifully slam against the sand. Oh, she was drunk indeed, even as she opened her eyes and shoved herself into a sitting position. “Fucking cold,” she finally answered, and looked at the lake once more. “I am not getting wet again.” Her voice was raspier than ever before, and Hermione was too drunk to process how much she truly enjoyed listening to it. 

“I agree,” Hermione slushed out, doing one long blink as the sun hit her eyes. She had already been in Blake Lake once more, magically knocked unconscious and tied around mermaids. She knew what was in these waters, and even drunk knew it was not smart to get in again. “I want to be dry.” 

Victoria laughed and bent down to drag Hermione to stand, and in the process nearly knocked both of them down. Hermione needed water, and food, and sleep, and to go back in time to smack herself for agreeing to drink. “No choice! Strip!” 

The four boys were already down to their underwear and walking towards the water’s edge to give the girls’ some privacy, and Victoria showed she had no qualms about being half naked in front of any of them as she let her dress pool around her ankles, and it was only Hermione reaching out to steady her that kept her from toppling over when she stepped out of the clothing. 

“Hurry up, Hermione! You’re one of us now! You gotta do it!” With that, Victoria rushed to join the others, the boys already screaming as they started inching into the water. 

Hermione couldn’t even imagine how cold it had to be this time of year, but- 

But she wanted to do it. 

It was the alcohol telling her that, she knew it, but she also wanted to do this with the rest of the team, caution and worry thrown to the wind. Her shirt came unbuttoned first, and she let it slip off of her shoulders onto the ground before she undid the buttons of her skirt and pulled the zipper down, the entire time feeling a heavy gaze on her back as she moved. 

When she was in nothing but her bra and underwear, and feeling a bit self conscious, her arms wrapped around her stomach, she looked at Bellatrix, finding the girl staring at her with blown pupils. 

“Are you coming?” Hermione’s throat was dry as she asked, and she tried to tell herself she wasn’t disappointed at the shake of Bellatrix’s head. “Okay then.” She turned to the water, still feeling Bellatrix watching her every movement, and started walking to the edge of the beach. 

At the first touch of the chilled water against her bare feet, she couldn’t help the loud shriek that escaped her, but with Steve and the rest of the team cheering her own, she let her alcohol hazy mind keep claiming this was fine, she could have this fun for now, that nothing bad would happen. 

Her teeth were chattering by the time she reached the rest of her friends, all of them chest deep in the dark water, and Ryan took the opportunity to dunk Steve, who came up spitting salty water a second later and retaliated with a large splash that got them all. 

This was... nothing like what she envisioned Slytherins to do. She tried to picture Draco in this scenario, in nothing but his underwear, drunk in Black Lake, and came up short with ideas. But the Slytherins she had gotten to know in this time, Steve and the team, Andromeda, even Rodolphus, for all his vile behavior could be very charming, and not to mention Bellatrix... they were nothing like what she had in mind for any of them. 

It was almost impossible to look at the people before her, well past tipsy and loud, splashing one another without a care in the world, and wonder how many of them would one day serve Voldemort? Rodolphus was there already, and Bellatrix was following that path, but Hermione had seen a change in the girl within recent days, a much more pleasant and enjoyable teen than the brooding mess Hermione had first met. 

Would it last? She didn’t know. What she did know was that Steve was going _down_ for splashing her in the face just down. 

That’s how it went for the next couple of minutes, until everyone was well past frozen, and Ryan left the water to grab the bottles of firewhiskey. Hermione was too drunk to vocalize how dangerous it would be to drink even more and keep swimming, and even she took more sips in a desperate attempt to warm her shaking body when the bottle was passed to her. 

Hermione didn’t even notice until she heard Victoria and Ryan yell, but their seventh teammate had finally deigned to join them, scowling the entire time she swaddled into the water until the hit her shoulders, her messy hair pulled into a bun atop her head in a weak attempt to stay dry. 

Her eyes were unfocused, but her voice clear and steady enough to say, “Couldn’t let you idiots show me up. No splashing.” She reached for the bottle in Sebastian’s hand, who offered it quickly, and everyone watched her take a long sip, most likely doing the same thing as Hermione and using the alcohol to warm their blood. 

If Hermione couldn’t picture Draco in the water, it was nothing compared to her trying to picture Bellatrix Black, but here the girl was, in nothing but her black underwear, wholly drunk and more relaxed than ever, in the deep water of Black Lake, and staring only at Hermione. 

“I thought you weren’t getting wet again?” She couldn’t help but tease Bellatrix, letting the alcohol coursing through her system guide her words. 

“Like I said, couldn’t let you show me up.” 

“Oh, I’m one of the idiots, then?” 

“The biggest idiot, yes.” Bellatrix nodded seriously, but the tone of her voice, the way she said the words, had it come from anyone else, it might have sounded flirty. 

None of the others paid them any mind. Victoria now on Steve’s shoulders while Sebastian held Tony, the two locked in a heated grip to knock the other off. Bellatrix shifted in the water, dragging her pale arm across the top and watching the ripples that formed. Hermione tracked the movements, kicking her legs that just barely touched the bottom of the sand. She needed to move closer to the shore, where she could properly stand, and when she moved to do so, Bellatrix followed. 

They kept at that, though instead of moving anymore closer they moved further sideways, away from the loud group of friends trying to drown one another and off on their own. Hermione had no clue what she was doing, and it seemed Bellatrix was equally as lost, blindly following wherever Hermione deemed interesting enough to move towards. 

In the end, they settled far enough to where the screeches of their friends no longer caused Hermione to cringe, but close enough to make them out and ensure no mermaids had pulled one of them under. 

It was then that Hermione noted the bottle still in Bellatrix’s hand when the girl took another sip, and offered it to Hermione afterwards, but she shook her head. She was fuzzy enough as it was now, and her stomach was rolling in a way that was much too uncomfortable. She needed to sober up, needed the cold water to start clearing her mind. Needed to think, needed to act more like herself and not whatever this was. 

Bellatrix finished the bottle one her own, only a small amount left anyway, and let it float beside them, careful not to let it sink. Both of them were still barley touching the sand, and Hermione knew Bellatrix had to be kicking harder than she was to remain afloat, and with each kick the two ended up closer than before, until not many inches separated them. 

Hermione didn’t think there was another time when she was this close to Bellatrix that didn’t end in a fight between the two, and certainly not when they were both so scantly dressed. 

And yet she couldn’t find a single part of her that really cared. 

Bellatrix’s eyes dipped down, straight to Hermione’s mouth, before they slowly, so so slowly, moved back up her face to look into her eyes. And Hermione was ready for a joke, ready for some mocking comment that would be followed by the quirk of one side of Bellatrix’s mouth, but nothing of the sort came. 

She just said, “Your lips are turning blue, Hermione.” 

Hermione’s entire body was frozen, to the point she swore she could no longer feel her toes, and with each small wave cresting by them, she became colder and colder. Her lip quivered, the movement gaining Bellatrix’s attention once more, and this time she stared at Hermione’s mouth longer, her own tongue coming out to wet her full lips and- 

It was the copious amounts of firewhiskey in her system that had her stomach flipping like that, right? 

They had moved a bit away from the rest of the team, far enough that in the rapidly dimming sky it was hard to make out the individual members as anything more than darkened blobs. Every now and then she’d hear a playful scream and a splash, but none of them seemed to either notice or mind that Bellatrix and Hermione were no longer with them. 

“I liked playing this morning,” Hermione said, because she couldn’t help herself, because she needed to say something, because she _liked_ how Bellatrix’s eyes followed the movements of her lips. “It was... intense, and nerve-wracking, and... so many other words I can’t even think of right now.” 

“Hermione Potter, finally speechless? It’s only taken months to get you to shut up.” The words lacked any bite, and if the playful tone Bellatrix used didn’t convince her, then the way her dark eyes were unusually bright, or how she gave a real smile for once, sold it. 

Hermione stared at Bellatrix, taking in how her hair was soaking wet and pushed away from her face, for once completely contained under the heavy weight of the salt water that no stands escaped. It exposed her face entirely, everything from her dark eyes, her high arching cheek bones, and of course, those too full lips. They looked so soft, and particularly inviting with how some of the water still clung to them. “I rode a dragon once,” Hermione admitted, unsure where that thought had come from, but at the way Bellatrix’s eyes widened in surprise and intrigue, she continued. “Relatively recently, actually, with my two friends, and-” words got stuck in her throat at the memory, as her brain caught up to her actions and she could recall why they ever had to ride the abused dragon in the first place. 

They wouldn't have known about the Horcrux in Gringotts had it not been for Bellatrix, had her uncontrollable screeching about the sword as she tormented and tortured Hermione not given her the idea about the bank. And at the thought of the person before her carving that knife into her skin, at the use of an Unforgivable curse thrown at her battered body, she was prepared to feel the familiar ache of her scar burning her arm. 

But nothing came. There was no increased heart rate, no ragged breathing, no pain. And she realized... realized there was not much of the girl standing before her that reminded her of the deranged woman, not anymore. The girl before her, frozen, drunk, and partially naked, no longer showed any much connection to the woman who would come to instill fear into millions. This girl, this Bellatrix right here, with wide eyes and a crooked grin, who stayed in the water with Hermione despite both of them shaking, whose eyes were slightly haze from the whiskey in their veins... 

Hermione liked this girl, this Bellatrix. Enjoyed every dark part of her, from her wicked mouth to her unrelenting devotion to her sisters, and everything in between. 

“And what?” Bellatrix asked, nothing but pure interest in her tone as she stared at Hermione. 

“And-” Hermione wasn’t sure where she was going with the story anyway, couldn’t remember what point she wanted to make or- or whatever she was doing. She frowned, and considered suggesting they left the water, as if she were too intoxicated to form proper sentences, they were well past being sober enough to safely stay swimming. 

Except Bellatrix kept staring at her, her eyes darker than Hermione ever remembered them being. The girl sucked her equally blue bottom lip into her mouth, catching it between straight and white teeth, and Hermione was captivated by the sight. 

There was only one thought in Hermione’s mind as she kept looking, one thought she could not get out of her head no matter how hard she tried, until it was the only thing she could think of, the only thing she even wanted right in this moment.

Hermione made the first move. They had floated close enough to one another that it took no effort at all for Hermione to jerk her head forward and press her mouth against Bellatrix’s. There was no hesitation whatsoever from the dark witch as she responded in kind. 

The kiss started soft and easy, nothing at all like what Hermione would have expected coming from Bellatrix Black of all people. After a moment of that, of nothing but their mouths touching, Bellatrix moved closer, wrapping one hand around the back of Hermione’s neck while the other cupped her cheek, pulling her closer immediately. 

There was not a single second for Hermione to feel embarrassed at the moan that slipped out when she felt Bellatrix’s body pressed against her own. 

It was nothing like when they had fought on the ground in the Forbidden Forest all those weeks ago. 

Then, it had been rage fueling their movements, no time to truly acknowledge the feeling of firm muscles underneath her when they were trying to buck her off and inflict some type of damage to Hermione. That was no longer the case, and Hermione did not stop herself from letting her hand fly out to flatten itself against Bellatrix’s toned stomach. 

The cold or the constant movement of keeping themselves afloat had her stomach muscles tensed, well defined underneath Hermione’s frozen fingers as she traced the outline of the girl’s abs. It was Bellatrix’s turn to moan as Hermione’s fingers trailed downward, following the dip of muscles until rough lace brushed the tips of her fingers at the exact moment Bellatrix’s tongue darted out to flick against Hermione's lips. 

Hermione’s other hand shot out to roughly grab Bellatrix’s hip, feeling the protruding bone digging into her finger as she kept her fingers against the lace of the girl’s underwear. She moved her hand no further, but Bellatrix rolled her hips against Hermione’s hand, the action trapping the appendage between both of their bodies, and Merlin was that feeling indescribable. She didn’t want to stop, not as Bellatrix’s tongue brushed against her own, or as the girl’s hand tangled roughly in her hair and _pulled_ -

“ _Ah_!” Hermione yelled as she jerked back, effectively breaking the two of them a part as she spun wildly around, looking down at the water surrounding them and completely missing how blown Bellatrix’s pupils were in that moment as she watch Hermione panic. 

“What- what is _wrong_?” Bellatrix was near breathless, her cheeks red despite the cold water and her lips wet and swollen. 

“Something _touched_ me!” Hermione’s chest rose and fell quickly, the movement having nothing to do with the feeling of something slick and slimy brushing across her ankle. They really should not have gotten in this water, not when Hermione had been so privy to what lurks in its depth, and now they were drunk and away from the others and- 

“You’re panicking,” Bellatrix said, moving to lightly wrap her hand around Hermione’s wrist and get her attention once more. “You need to breathe.”

That was the very last thing she could do right now, not when she could still taste Bellatrix on her tongue, mixed with the stinging feel of the firewhiskey burning her throat and stomach, or the sensation of Bellatrix’s hands in her hair and jerking her head backwards. Or the fact that something was most definitely way too close to them. 

“Do you know what is _in_ these water?” 

“Our squid, mermaids, unknown amounts of fish, probably various other things,” Bellatrix replied calmly, and then said, just to distract Hermione, “You’re a dragon-rider, but a bit of fish swimming by you is too much?” 

Hermione glared at the girl, and it worked exactly how Bellatrix intended it to, just as her teasing had worked this morning before the game. But she still insisted they left the dark water, and it was not until they returned to the fire to cast a spell to dry their bodies and put on their clothes, did Hermione let the seriousness of what just happened sink in. 

Why did she _do_ that? 

When Hermione turned too soon after getting dressed, she caught the moonlight reflecting off the pale white skin of Bellatrix’s scarred back, and hated the immense heat that hit her body as her eyes trailed downwards, following the slope of Bellatrix’s back to the curve of her ass, now clad in the black dress that was yet to be zipped up. 

She moved again to not be caught staring, blindly reaching for the half full bottle of firewhiskey before taking a large swig. 

Even its strong and burning taste did nothing to wipe away Bellatrix from her lips and tongue. 

* * *

There were a precious few moments when Hermione first woke up where she had no recollection of her actions the night before. She even didn't mind the pounding headache she’d need a potion to cure, or the way her stomach rolled uncomfortably with nausea.

The illusion broke pretty quickly when she ran a hand through her stingy and knotted hair, caked in salt water, and felt her comforter brush against her bare legs and stomach, before all the memories of the night before slammed into her like a truck.

 _Bellatrix had been so soft beneath her fingertips, the way she had kissed her had been downright sinful_. _And her_ hips _rolling into Hermione’s hand like that_...

Hermione jumped up from the bed and threw a robe over her mostly naked body before she rushed to the bathroom to wash, well, everything off of her body. There was no one else around, almost all of the beds in her dorm still housing sleeping students, which she was thankful for. Now was not the time to run into anyone, not as she couldn’t stop thinking of the beach. 

_She was so, so cold, and Bellatrix was so, so warm_.

Last night was a stupid and drunken mistake, of that she was sure. It would not have happened had firewhiskey not been thrown in the mix, had they not been half naked in that creepy lake. They weren’t even... weren’t even attracted to one another.

Sure, Bellatrix was gorgeous, the prettiest girl Hermione had ever seen, and she had muscles to die for, ones Hermione quite enjoyed appreciating last night, but that was nothing. All because of the alcohol.

The water was the hottest setting her skin could stand as she sunk into the deep bath, hissing at the near burning sensation, before she sucked in a breath and dunked her filthy head into the suds. Only when her lungs begged for oxygen did she break the surface again, sucking in needed air. She stayed in that position until the water began to cool, until her toes and fingers pruned, and once she was cleaned and her head less fuzzy, did she leave the comforting embrace of the bathroom and got dressed. 

The common room was mostly empty, most of its students wanting to sleep in on a Sunday morning, and that unfortunately gave Hermione the full view of Bellatrix and Rodolphus sitting together on one of the lush couches by the fire.

Hermione had forced herself to ignore Rodolphus’ presence until she figured out what to do about his place within the Death Eaters. She had told no one about Rabastan and him attacking them, and had distanced herself from the older boy more than she already had. Not that it had been hard, as Rodolphus had not shown much interest in her anymore since the attack, but Hermione had made an effort to make sure she was not alone in a room with Rodolphus, or Andromeda for that matter.

The younger girl had never caught Rabastan’s face that night, would have never put the easily found connection together, but still she did not question Hermione’s newfound protectiveness over her when it came to Rodolphus, and especially Rabastan, who was not heavily involved in much of anything, and Hermione thankfully only saw him in passing at meal times. 

But here Rodolphus was, arm thrown around the back of Bellatrix’s head on the couch, both of them staring down at a book in his lap. They hadn’t noticed Hermione’s arrival yet, and for that she was thankful. 

Bellatrix was to marry him one day, how did that thought not cross Hermione’s mind last night? It was just one more thing to blame on the alcohol, she told herself as she remained watching the two interact. She had never been able to figure out if they were actually dating right now, or just friends. Rodolphus was physical with Bellatrix in the sense that he always had a hand on her when they were near one another, but Hermione had never witnessed them kiss, and Bellatrix had certainly never brought Rodolphus up in conversation with Hermione, though relationships had never been brought up. 

She’d have to ask Andromeda then, if only just to know where Rodolphus fell into this increasingly complicated mission. He was a Death Eater already, and Hermione needed to know if Bellatrix’s marriage to him was arranged, or if she held genuine feelings for the boy. Hermione wished it was the former, as it would make her job infinitely less complicated. 

“Why are you staring at them, weirdo?” 

“ _Andromeda_!” Hermione growled when the girl had popped up out of nowhere, dressed in just the school’s skirt and button down, no robe or tie to be seen. “Don’t do that!”   
  
“I called your name. You didn’t answer me. What’s up?” Andromeda frowned as she stared at Hermione, and even though, rationally, Hermione knew there was no way Bellatrix had told her little sister about last night, she still started to worry about what if Andromeda _knew_? “If you’re done stalking them, come get breakfast with me.” 

No, there was no way she knew. No way at all. Bellatrix was not the kind of person to go shouting about kissing someone, especially when that someone was a person who had only just recently moved from ‘blood-traitor- territory to ‘I deal with your presence’ territory. 

“Seriously, what is wrong with you? You’re all pale.” She stopped talking for a moment, before a wide grin spread across her face. “You’re hungover! I fucking told Ted you were drinking with them last night, and he bet me you wouldn’t! Oh, he owes me ten knuts. Fucking _yes_.” 

Definitely didn’t know. Luckily for Hermione, the two of them delved into an argument about betting on Hermione _again_ that took up nearly the entire walk to the hospital wing for a headache potion, and Bellatrix and the idiotic kiss was placed on the back burner as she told Andromeda about the Slytherin initiation. 

Both of them were laughing loudly after Madam Pomfrey’s stern warning about ‘headaches’, and Hermione couldn’t find it in herself at that moment to feel ashamed like she would have before. Once they got closer to the Great Hall, they stopped walking at the sight of Daniel heading directly towards them, waving a hand in greeting. 

“Morning, Hermione, Andromeda,” Daniel said much too energetically as he stopped before both of them, a nice smile on his handsome face. He was dressed in the school robes, looking much more put together than Hermione felt right in that moment, and he held a small box wrapped in white paper. “Andromeda, do you mind if I steal Hermione for a minute?” 

The fifth year looked at Daniel for a long moment before winking at Hermione and walking the rest of the way to the Great Hall. It was clear he had been waiting for her to walk this way, the conversation one that apparently could not wait for later, after Hermione had food to wash the still there taste of Bellatrix away and calm her turning stomach. The potion had helped her headache, but had not worked nearly as well on her stomach, and each step was an effort not to vomit. 

“Hi, Daniel,” Hermione forced herself to smile at the boy. He had no reason to suffer through her bad attitude when he was no involved at all. 

“Uh, hi, morning- I said that already, uh-” he rambled, his bottom lip sucked nervously between his teeth before he released a nervous laugh, and Hermione couldn’t help but smile at the scene. “Let me try again.” 

“Take your time,” she teased, tucking her hands into the pockets of her robes for warmth. “What’s in the box?” 

He looked down at the package quickly, as if he had completely forgotten he was even holding it, and then quickly thrust it out to her. “It’s for you, actually,” he said, now much calmer and slower. “I picked them up at Honeydukes yesterday. I have no clue if you like them, but uh, I figured I couldn’t go wrong with chocolates?

She took the box with a soft ‘thank you’, and tucked it close to her body. The smile on her face couldn’t be helped as she beamed up at him. “That’s very sweet, thank you very much, Daniel.” 

They started walking then, Daniel launching into a story about his own Brownie and partner, another Gryffindor boy, and apparently how their’s was much less cooperative when it came to feeding, and had even bitten his partner’s finger twice. Hermione began describing Fatty, and how much she was enjoying this assignment. She had taken rigorous notes by then, about all things regarding the creature, even the most smallest, and was looking forward to starting the essay within the next couple of days. 

When Daniel stopped walking, and turned to face Hermione head on, she stopped talking and stared up at him curiously. 

“So, uh,” Daniel laughed, the tone slightly awkward and uncomfortable, as he scratched the back of his head. “Uh, I was thinking, you know, uh, maybe it would be fun if we... went out?” His face was as red as Hermione had ever seen it, the coloring moving down to his neck as well. He couldn’t quite meet Hermione’s eye as he asked.

“Daniel-” Hermione cut herself off, unsure where she was going with it. She should say no, when she could still feel the ghost of Bellatrix’s half naked body on her own, could still hear the breathy moan Bellatrix made. 

But it was the alcohol that had put them in that position in the first place, wasn’t it? It never would have happened without all the firewhiskey, and as Hermione was adamant she would not be drinking again, there was no reason to think they would ever kiss, or even so much as discuss the kiss, again.

Hermione didn’t even _like_ Bellatrix like that. Sure, the girl was the most gorgeous person she had ever seen, and probably the only person to ever truly rival Hermione when it came to academic ability. But she was so unbelievably cocky about everything, so full of herself, so undeniably self assured, and that was not attractive. It was not. Not at all.

She refused to think about the fact that none of the other people she had kissed ever made her feel anything close to what Bellatrix caused last night.

Nothing would ever come of the two of them anyway, and not only because Hermione definitely did not like Bellatrix, but because Rodolphus was in the picture.

And Daniel? How did he fit into this? He was sweet, and had been nothing but welcoming to Hermione ever since he arrived. She hadn’t considered him as anything more than a friend, but maybe something would happen? Dating had not been a part of her mission goals in the slightest, but then again neither had kissing Bellatrix. Besides, dating Daniel wouldn’t distract her from her goals.

“That sounds nice,” she finally said, after she had convinced herself that nothing bad would come from going on a date with Daniel, whereas kissing Bellatrix could have brought so many bad things down upon them. “What did you have in mind?” 

Daniel’s relieved smile solidified Hermione’s decision that this was the smart decision, that no matter that her heart didn’t increase in pace like it did when Bellatrix smiled like that, this is what she should be doing. He was nice, and she’s always had fun when the two of them were together.

As they walked down the hall, Daniel describing various ideas he had thought of, Hermione forced her mind to stop thinking of Bellatrix and last night.

After all, it was nothing but a drunken mistake. 


	10. X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> made one edit to this bc I accidentally typed Hermione's real last name instead of Potter :/

“You’re holding him wrong,” Hermione snapped as she tried to take Fatty from Bellatrix, who moved her hand quickly away from Hermione’s approaching one and therefore putting the Brownie out of reach. “He doesn't like to be held like that.”

“I think I know what I am doing, given that he hasn't bitten _me_ ,” Bellatrix said back, her tone equally as hostile as Hermione’s, and loud enough to gain the attention of a the other students closest to the pair. 

It was the Monday after Hermione’s first Quidditch match, and this was the first time she was around Bellatrix for longer than a moment or two. The dark witch had been off with Rodolphus the rest of the weekend, and Hermione hadn’t yet decided if she hated that or felt relieved to have time to think without the girl’s presence. 

She had time to think over what had happened at the lake, and decided that she was correct in claiming it was a one-off, nothing more than the alcohol controlling her body. Bellatrix’s beauty was undeniable, unmistakable, something that was impossible to not notice. On a purely physical level, she would have been the perfect partner for anyone. 

But physical traits aside, there were so many reasons for why Hermione was not interested in Bellatrix. She was sarcastic, mean, incapable of being polite or nice to people she thought was below her, and harbored those abhorrent views on muggles and muggle-born. 

They were friends, sort of. Bellatrix hadn’t fought the statement when Hermione said as much at Honeydukes, but it would never go beyond that, aside from the one slip up that it was obvious Bellatrix had no interest in discussing. 

“You’re so moody today,” Bellatrix commented when Hermione tried to take Fatty from her once more. “What crawled up your ass?” 

“That’s bold, coming from you,” Hermione bit back. “Will you give me him!” Her voice was exhausted when Bellatrix still refused to pass Fatty over to him, and all she got in response was a haughty laugh. 

Bellatrix gently sat Fatty back onto his nest, and when Hermione reached to pick him up, he gave an indignant squeak at her, as if to say _how dare you try and touch me?_ that transformed Bellatrix’s haughty laugh into a real one. Even as Hermione was smiling at the sound, she still slammed her elbow into the other girls side, which resulted in a half hearted shove back. 

“Miss Potter, Miss Black, we have gone so long without the two of you turning a classroom into a fighting pit. Perhaps we could go a bit longer?” Kettleburn’s deep voice broke them out of lightly whacking one another while Fatty kept squeaking every time Hermione landed a hit on Bellatrix. 

“Apologies, professor,” Hermione said, her cheeks a bit red from being caught goofing off with Bellatrix by a professor. He nodded his acceptance and gave the two of them a stern look before walking to look at another group’s Brownie. “See what you did,” she snapped once he was out of earshot, glaring at Bellatrix who kept poking Fatty’s rounded belly. Each poke gained another squeak, this one sounding much less outraged and more enjoyable. “He hates me,” she huffed, and would have swore the Brownie glared at her. 

“He does,” Bellatrix agreed with another laugh, and allowed Fatty to crawl back into her hand and wrap his long arms around her wrist. 

“Thanks so much, Bella,” Hermione growled, too distracted by writing down notes about Fatty on her parchment to catch the slip-up in calling Bellatrix by her nickname. 

She also missed Bellatrix’s pale cheeks darkening slightly, before she covered it by saying, “You’re pretty annoying, so it’s understandable.” 

That comment received her another whack to her ribs, and Fatty made his loudest squeak yet. 

* * *

Andromeda and Narcissa were waiting against the bleachers when Hermione and Bellatrix finished up the day’s Quidditch practice, both of them sweaty and Hermione a bit dirt splattered. Victoria had knocked her off of her broom twice today, and each time just served to infuriate Hermione more and more. It didn’t help that when Bellatrix came down to pull her up, she mocked her lack of skills the entire time. 

“Do I ever get peace from either of you?” Bellatrix complained to her sisters as she walked by, heading to the shed to store her broom. 

“Not everything is about you, Bella. I’m waiting for Hermione,” Andromeda replied, rolling her honeyed eyes at her sister. “And Cissy just likes to stalk me, I guess.” 

Narcissa rolled her eyes at her older sister, and said in that almost flat, lilting voice of her’s, that always bordered on the edge of insulting you while still being polite, “She’s looking a lot better thanks to you, Bella.” Andromeda coughed something that sounded suspiciously like ‘suck up’, and was ignored as Narcissa spoke some more. “Also, an owl arrived for you.” 

The oldest of the three siblings nodded at the youngest, but said nothing about who the letter was from. Instead she switched her focus back to Hermione and Andromeda. “And why do you need our lovely traitor?” Bellatrix asked as the four of them began walking back towards the castle.

“She wants help getting ready for tonight.” 

“What is tonight.” 

Andromeda looked from her sister to Hermione, who looked as if she’d rather be anywhere else once she picked up on Bellatrix’s biting tone. But the fifth year answered all the same, a coy smile overtaking her features as she picked up... something between Hermione and Bellatrix about tonight. “Her date, of course. She didn’t tell you? Daniel asked her out.” 

Bellatrix’s dark eyes slid to Hermione's, her full lips pulled into an annoyed scowl as she just said, “Is that so?” 

“It is,” Hermione finally found her voice and said. Her throat felt uncomfortably dry the longer the eldest Black daughter kept looking at her like that. “Is that a problem?” 

“In the sense that that is one more person I have to deal with who sullies themselves with mudbloods.” Bellatrix’s voice was as hard as her gaze as she stared at Hermione and ignored Andromeda’s outraged response about Ted entirely. “Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, given your reputation as a blood traitor and sympathizer.” 

The words didn’t hit Hermione like they would have before, and she was now aware this was just Bellatrix using anger and insults to cover something up, but that just posed the question of what was she hiding? 

Surprising none of them, it was Narcissa who halted whatever fight probably would have started between Andromeda and Bellatrix. She wrapped her pale arm around Bellatrix’s bicep and frowned at the sweat she found there. “You need a shower. And you’re helping me with Divination. You don’t have time for petty arguments with Andy. Let’s go.” 

Silently, Narcissa pulled Bellatrix away from Andromeda and Hermione, both of them watching Bellatrix be willingly led before an argument could break out. And Hermione knew it would have, as when she turned to look at Andromeda she found the girl red with anger, her bottom lip sucked in between her teeth. 

“Come on, you can distract yourself from the annoyance that is your sister by dressing me up. I know you like stuffing me in overly nice clothing.” 

The joke did its job, and Andromeda bumped her shoulder into Hermione’s as the two of them continued on to the castle and towards the fifth year Slytherin’s dorm. 

* * *

Daniel led her by the hand outside of the castle and through the well cared for grounds. They passed many other students out as well, a couple younger Gryffindor boys daring one another to go farther and farther into the woods, and Hermione couldn’t help but smile at knowing they would soon get caught, especially with Filch lurking the grounds somewhere. Older students huddled on the ground in small groups, practicing the occasional small and harmless spell, such as levitating their school books or starting tiny and contained fires. 

It sent a feeling of longing so sudden and intense that Hermione nearly stumbled as they walked down a slight hill. Watching the fourth years laughing around the tiny, sparking fire was so similar to what she had done more times than she could count with Harry and Ron, and all of the times they had come so close to being caught by a professor. 

She couldn’t even wonder what they were doing right now, as they technically didn’t even exist. No one in this time period except for herself knew how wonderful the two boys were, how far both of them were willing to go to protect others. 

That thought made her pause, and she looked to Daniel as he walked beside her, completely unaware of her rapidly saddening thoughts. Would he do the same? Would he so readily place his life on the line to protect others? Would he stand up to argue with professors in defense of his friends? Would he rush to the Ministry as a fifteen year old and attack a skilled group of Death Eaters, all to save one man? 

Hermione would like to say he would, but the truth was she knew very little about Daniel aside from the basics: Muggle born, a Quidditch player, a decent student, though he seemed to about as much drive to study as Harry did. 

This train of thought led to another one, completely unbidden and once it entered her mind she could not get it out. 

Bellatrix was all of those things, and so much more. There was not a single doubt in Hermione’s mind that if Andromeda or Narcissa was in danger, Bellatrix would do anything in her power to save them, would completely wreck herself to make sure they were safe. And though the cause was horrible, and went against everything good in the world, Bellatrix would one day be go to Azkaban for her fanatic support of Voldemort. Hermione hoped to change that, but that sort of devotion would always be a part of the girl, even if it was no longer directed to someone as vile as Lord Voldemort. 

Hermione had to respect those sort of qualities in a person, and it did make her wonder if Daniel had them or not. Aside from his parents, who were so separate from this world, was there anything he would be willing to die for? She didn’t like that she didn’t know. 

Daniel spoke up then, and Hermione hadn’t even noticed they had come to a stop. “It’s not exactly extravagant, but seeing as I don’t know when we’re going to Hogsmeade next, and I didn’t want to wait...” he looked down at the small blanket on the ground, a small lidded basket in the corner. “It’s stupid, now that I’m looking at it, I’m sorry.” 

Hermione grabbed onto his hand and found it warm and sweaty, but held on anyway as she gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. She forced all previous thoughts from her mind. There was no reason to dwell on anything like that, not when she was on a date with a nice boy, who clearly put a lot of thought into this outing. “It’s sweet, thank you. And I’m starving. I only just finished practice and haven't had lunch.” 

She could see Daniel’s broad shoulders drop in relief before he motioned for her to sit down on the blanket, and followed once she did. “It’s just sandwiches and fruit. I had to beg one of the elves to help me,” he confessed, that gentle and slightly nervous smile present on his face. 

“Everything is very nice, Daniel, really, it’s all quite lovely.” She nodded her thanks when he passed her a cup of pumpkin juice, and then pulled out two wrapped sandwiches and a few small platters of fruit. 

“How was practice?” Daniel asked as they bit into ripe strawberries minutes later. “Learn any new moves?” 

Hermione shrugged as she finished chewing, and was thankful no juice had dripped down her chin. “Trying to figure out Slytherin secrets? We just ran some plays Steve had been working on with Ryan. I didn’t think I’d ever like Quidditch nearly as much as I do, and I am looking forward to the next game.” 

“Against Ravenclaw, right? Their seeker is bloody fast, and their chasers are sneaky. Watch out for them.” 

“Sneakier than Gryffindor beaters trying to knock me from my broom to get us out of the running for the rest of the year?” 

He at least had the decency to look ashamed as he stared into his cup of pumpkin juice, the tips of his ears bright red. “I wanted to apologize for that,” he started, his voice firm and level. “I told them it wasn’t a good move, and we shouldn’t do that, but our captain wasn’t hearing it. We’re all so close in points this semester, everyone is nervous on who is going to win the cup. Not that it matters, we shouldn't have targeted you like that. You could have been seriously hurt, and that’s the last thing I would want.” 

Right in that instant, Hermione had her answer on whether Daniel would stand up to a professor or throw himself in front of someone in need, and it wasn’t a positive thought. 

But she smiled, and said, “Not that it matters, since Slytherin absolutely crushed you guys. _Without_ playing dirty.” 

“I wouldn’t say it _wasn’t_ dirty how you shot those beaters,” he laughed, and Hermione found herself doing the same as they both recalled the ferocity with which she hit the balls. She definitely had something to prove at that first match, and accomplished it well enough. Gryffindor had stopped targeting her after she switched positions, and she was unforgiving in trying to knock the opposing team from their brooms. 

“How is fair that you’re so good at Quidditch anyway? I thought you weren’t a sporty person before all this.” 

“I’m not, or I wasn’t,” she agreed, thinking of all the times she had been in the air and hated every moment of it. “But Quidditch was more than just riding a broom, and I like the logical parts of it all, of thinking about how my move would effect the whole team.” It was a bit like chess, even if that wasn’t a favorite of her’s either, but she’s played enough with Ron to respect the game. All of their own individual moves would effect the others, save maybe the Seeker, who only impacted the team if they caught the ball. “And, Bellatrix has been helping me train almost every day, aside from training with the team.” 

That caused Daniel’s eyebrows to raise in surprise as he stared at her. “ _Bellatrix_ has been helping you out?” 

Hermione nodded once more, her attention more on grabbing some purple grapes from the box than Daniel’s incredulous expression. “She was determined not to let me ruin Slytherin’s reputation, and so she started helping me.” 

“I can imagine that’s hard. I know the two of you aren’t on the best of terms, which is understandable, since Bellatrix Black is... hard to get along with.” Even though his remark wasn’t inaccurate, and saying she was hard to get along with was a much nicer version of what some people could say, and was much nicer than what Hermione thought about the girl at the beginning of this mission, his statement still rubbed her the wrong way. 

He didn’t know anything about Bellatrix, not really, nothing more than the brutal persona she portrayed herself as. She still was that girl with the scathing remarks, with the hairpin trigger anger, and the mouth that was constantly get her in trouble, but she was also so much more. Hermione hadn’t forgotten what Andromeda had told in the hospital wing after the Hogsmeade attack, about the version of her sister teaching all of them how to play Quidditch and climb trees, and how she was close to Sirius Black as well. 

Daniel didn’t know any of those, and judged Bellatrix purely on one level she showed of herself. 

He most definitely didn’t know how softly she could hold someone when she kissed them, how gentle her mouth would feel against- 

_Now is_ not _the time for any of_ that. 

“Hey, did that upset you?” Daniel asked when Hermione failed to respond, his mouth in a slight frown and his eyebrows furrowed. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t- I should have figured you guys were friends. I’m sorry for saying that about her, even if you aren’t friends, that was rude.” 

It wasn’t as rude as it could be, and honestly Hermione couldn’t really grasp why the comment bothered her as much as it did anyway, when it was true from Daniel and so many other’s points of view. 

She didn’t want to talk about that anymore. Didn’t want to talk or think about Bellatrix at all, so she merely stole one of the berries from his plate and said, “Tell me about your life when you aren’t at Hogwarts.” 

Daniel launched into his stories about the summer, and how he alternating staying in muggle London with his parents, but spending multiple weekends with his Wizarding family cousins and uncle. He described his father’s job (accounting) and described it in the barest details that he figured Hermione would understand, as to him and everyone else she knew very little of the muggle world and its professions. 

When it was her turn to talk, she used her summers at the Weasley residence to describe how she spent her summers, instead of her true life with parents who didn’t remember her, in a muggle home she would never see again. She couldn’t say any of that, so she described hunting down garden gnomes and going to the Quidditch World Cup with friends. 

As time passed, the sun was starting to set as Hermione and Daniel remained on the small blankets, sitting crossed legged and facing one another. The fruit had long since run out, and they were on the last dredges of pumpkin juice, and Hermione had found she enjoyed the afternoon and evening. 

Like everything about the boy, talking to Daniel was easy. He always listened attentively to what Hermione had to say, and was even invested enough into his studies to debate a decent amount of topics with her, which was always thrilling. When he confessed to having dreaded going to every single Divination class, Hermione couldn’t hold back from ranting about her hatred of the course, how it was faulty magic at best, and outright lies at worst. Daniel had whole heartedly agreed, and the two fell into a laughing fit. 

“I had fun today,” Hermione said as they packed the little basket back up once it started to get closer to curfew. Her statement was true, she did greatly enjoy spending time with the boy, aside from the slight stumbles in the beginning. “Thank you for bringing me out, and for doing all of this.” 

“Thank _you_ for coming out with me,” he said back to her, arms full of the blanket. “I have to admit to being very nervous to asking you out. I really thought you’d say no.” 

She knew he was nervous, that much was obvious from how easily he turned red around her, but the part about her saying no was new. “Why did you think that?” 

His gaze was on the ground as he spoke. “You’re just so.. I don’t even know how to describe it. You make me very nervous, and you don’t really talk to anyone aside from Andromeda and her sisters, and now your Quidditch team. I thought over how to ask you out more times than I want to admit. My friends have a blast making fun of me.” 

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” The very last voice Hermione wanted to hear right now sounded behind her, and she took a moment to breathe deeply before she spun around. Now was not the time for Bellatrix to be here. 

And immediately knew from the glint in Bellatrix’s dark eyes and the mocking smile on her face, this would be a conversation ending in some sort of argument. 

It didn’t help that Rodolphus was beside Bellatrix, watching the dark haired witch with an interest that set Hermione’s teeth on edge. 

“Oh, are we interrupting a _date_?” Bellatrix’s voice was heavy with sarcasm as she took a step forward, one eyebrow raised higher than the other and the tips of her teeth poking through her smile. “How so very... interesting, isn’t it, Potter?” 

This was not good. “I don’t think anything about this is interesting to you, Bellatrix.” Not when Bellatrix knew Hermione would be on a date, though was it luck that had the two of them stumbling upon Hermione and Daniel, or did they purposely seek them out, just to create an altercation? 

Bellatrix tapped one of her fingers against her chin as if she were seriously contemplating what Hermione said. “That’s just not accurate, my little blood-traitor. We both know all the reasons I would find this interesting, now don’t we? Perhaps Rod and Daniel would like to know as well?” Her gaze turned from Hermione to Daniel, that terrible smiling widening. “You see, Daniel, Hermione-” 

“ _Bella_.” Hermione’s voice was low with warning as she moved to grip her wand in her pocket. She would hex the girl to oblivion if she didn’t shut up, not when Hermione knew the topic Bellatrix would so willingly bring up, even in front of Rodolphus. 

“I’m curious, love,” Rodolphus said as he wrapped his arm around Bellatrix’s slim shoulders, pulling her closer to his side. “What do we want to know about dear Hermione?” 

Correction- she’d hex them both. Bellatrix for being herself, and Rodolphus for having the audacity to put his arm around Bellatrix like that. 

Bellatrix had eyes only for Hermione as she talked to Rodolphus. “ _Well_ , our precious Hermione Potter-” 

“Knock it off, Bella,” Hermione growled, her wand now entirely in her hand but pointed towards the ground. Bellatrix’s grin only grew in delight at the sight of Hermione’s wand out, so similar to their earlier interactions. “I’m not in the mood for this game.” 

Both boys eyed the two girls apprehensively, and Hermione could tell Daniel was judging whether it was best to intervene or let them argue this out, even if Hermione wasn’t sure why they were arguing to begin with. Bellatrix hadn’t outgrown teasing Hermione or making her life hell, but it had shifted to smaller things, such as making fun of her Quidditch skills or Fatty despising her. It had been a long while indeed that Bellatrix seemed to make a point of ruining Hermione’s good time. 

And she wasn’t going to let Bellatrix do it now either. Today had been good, and Hermione wanted it to continue to be so. She didn’t even look at Bellatrix as she grabbed Daniel’s free hand and said to him, “We’re leaving.” 

It was the first time Hermione had ever turned her back and walked from Bellatrix, and for the first time, the other girl made no comment as Hermione and Daniel walked together back to the castle. 

* * *

Bellatrix was not in the dorm or common room when Hermione woke up early the next morning for practice, but given that the girl had never flaked on her before, Hermione assumed she had merely left without her to go to the field. 

Her assumption was correct, and Bellatrix was in the process of opening the large chest of balls they dragged out from the shed every practice. Whether she took notice of Hermione furiously stomping towards her or not, she did not react. 

At least until Hermione shoved her over when she was bent down grabbing the Quaffle. 

“What the fuck?” Bellatrix growled from her position on the ground, her hands behind her back supporting her weight. Her expression was less furious than other times they had fought and more incredulous, as if she couldn’t believe they were back to this. 

“How dare you?” Hermione yelled, her anger burning stronger the longer Bellatrix remained on the ground, unmoving and unbothered by Hermione’s raised voice. “You had _no_ right to say anything to Daniel or myself yesterday.” 

At that point Bellatrix pushed herself from the ground and dusted her practice clothes off. She ran a hand through her hair in a poor attempt to detangle some of the messy curls, though it was of course to no avail. 

“And here I was, under the impression I could say whatever I desired. Tell me, traitor, what was it you were so willing to keep hidden from Daniel?” 

Hermione would not be giving Bellatrix the satisfaction of saying it out loud, not when that is exactly what the girl had been trying to goad her into doing yesterday as well. Not that it even made sense, seeing as Bellatrix had been keen on ignoring the entire thing all weekend and yesterday morning, but the moment she had come across Hermione and Daniel on their date, she changed her mind. 

“I thought we were past this,” Hermione bit out between clenched teeth. She had to hold back the desire to knock Bellatrix to the ground once more, and let out a long breath to calm herself down. “I’m tired of doing this, Bella, really I am. It’s like... every step forward I think we’re taking, you do something like this to remind me that we really aren't-” she cut herself off, unsure of what the next word would be anyway. “Whatever problem you have with me, please just leave Daniel out of it. He’s nice, I like hanging out with him.” 

“Is that all you like about him?” Bellatrix’s voice was flat as she asked, completely ignoring everything else Hermione just confessed. 

“I do like that he’s nice. But I like that he’s interested in school, and that he makes me laugh.” She didn’t think of the negative aspects about Daniel she discovered yesterday, even if they weren’t technically a negative. Not wanting to lose your life wasn’t something people would normally care about. But then again Hermione had not lived a normal life up until now, if this could even be considered normal. “What is it to you anyway?

Bellatrix looked up at the brightening sky, her dark eyes mostly concealed and part of her bottom lip sucked in between her teeth. “Purely curious,” she finally answered, her gaze anywhere but Hermione. “It’s insulting for the Black’s to be known as a family who-” 

“Do not call me a blood-traitor, or a sympathizer, or Daniel or Ted a mudblood again.” 

“You’ve never-”

“I’ve picked my battles with you, Bella, but I’m not doing that anymore. Your beliefs are bigoted, and outdated, and vile. You _like_ me. We’re _friends_.” Hermione’s heart increased the angrier she became, and she forgot entirely about being here for Quidditch. Now, she had so much to get off of her chest. “At any point since finding out about Andy and Ted you could have gone to your father, you could have ruined everything for her, just because he’s muggle born. But you didn’t, because you know how your father would react. You can look at that, and see that that reaction is not right, and yet you can’t even see that is exactly how you are behaving?” 

Bellatrix’s attention was now wholly on Hermione, her cheeks red with fury and her eyes slitted. “Do not compare me to my father, Hermione, when you have no idea what you are talking about.” 

“I don’t need to know. Not when I can look at you and see everything he’s ever put into your head. And it’s all wrong, Bella, you have to know that. Every single thing he’s said about muggles or muggle-born, its all wrong.” 

Everything Hermione was saying was accurate, things that needed to be said, things that Bellatrix needed to hear. Yes, Hermione had never met Cygnus Black, but she didn’t need to. She had met the woman Bellatrix would grow to be, and knew that she became the spitting imagine of her father. That was what Hermione wanted to change, and what she needed Bellatrix to understand. 

Bellatrix, however, didn’t want to hear any of it. But where Hermione expected to see more anger, she saw just heavy lidded eyes staring back at her, Bellatrix’s full bottom lip jutted out slightly and her eyes bright. 

Was she... she wasn’t going to- 

She wasn’t going to _cry_ , was she? 

Hermione had her answer a moment later, when that oh so full lip pulled up into a mocking grin. “So many negative things to say about me then, hm? And here I was thinking we were... _friends_.” 

Nope, not crying at all. Just being her typical, infuriating self. 

“Bellatrix, I’m serious, and-”

“And what?” A step in Hermione’s direction. 

It was obvious what this was; nothing more than a ploy to distract Hermione from her previous focus on convincing Bellatrix every single thing she had been raised to believe was incorrect. 

That didn’t mean it wasn’t going to work though. 

It was definitely working, working very well as Bellatrix lowered her voice. “And we, aren’t we? Friends? You’ve said so yourself.” 

“We’re friends.” 

“Would you say we’re good friends, dragon rider?” 

The words slammed into Hermione, taking her mind to just a few days prior. _“You’re a dragon-rider, but a bit of fish swimming by you is too much?”_ It had come just after Hermione had pulled away from Bellatrix after having what was probably the best kiss of her life, though that could have been the alcohol clouding her judgment about it. 

This was a game, just a game. Game, game, game, her mind kept screaming at her, but she could do nothing except think back to the weekend, and how _nice_ it had been and- 

“Knock it off,” Hermione snapped when Bellatrix stepped closer, that devious grin never faltering even as she reached out a hand to tuck one of Hermione’s escaped curls behind her ear. 

“What’s wrong?” Bellatrix’s voice was barley above a whisper, but Hermione could still make out the teasing tone of voice as she felt a feather light finger trailing down her arm. “You weren't complaining the last time I was this close to you.” 

“We were drunk.” The excuse felt feeble to her own ears as she sucked in a deep breath. When her tongue came out to wet her too dry lips, she didn’t miss Bellatrix’s eyes dipping down again to watch the movement. 

It was Hermione who took the step back, her throat dry and her breathing quick as she jerked a hand through her. She desperately needed to bathe. A cold one would be best. 

This had all gone on long enough. It had started as her being furious for Bellatrix’s actions the day before, and then turned into Hermione trying to get the girl to see the truth about pureblood ideologies, and then it became... Hermione wasn’t sure what it became, but this certainly wasn’t positive. Whatever the hell this was. 

And she didn’t even want to consider the fact that Bellatrix was using whatever it was a tool to manipulate Hermione. She didn’t care at all about something that had been bothering Hermione so much. No, Bellatrix was just using it to get her way, to distract and tease and mock and whatever else way she could twist this to her own amusement. 

“I’d rather skip practice today. Let’s just go to breakfast,” she said, instead of saying or acting on any of the inappropriate thoughts slamming into her mind. Bellatrix wouldn’t have been receptive of any of them, not really. 

It was a feeble excuse, but one that the other girl accepted without comment. Bellatrix nodded her head, the movements slow and deliberate as she did not take her eyes off of Hermione, and stayed that way for a long heartbeat before moving to gather the box of Quidditch balls while Hermione silently moved to grab their brooms. 

Neither girl said anything the entire walk to the shed and then the castle, and while that wasn’t out of the norm for Hermione, it was practically unheard of for Bellatrix to keep whatever thoughts she had, no matter how insulting, to herself for so long. 

Hermione would have given anything to know what Bellatrix was thinking right in that moment. She could guess, and assumed it was about how her plan had worked, how she had riled Hermione up enough to drop the topic, but still Hermione wanted to know. And then not talk to Bellatrix for a long while after today. 

“Hey, you got an owl.” Andromeda’s voice distracted Hermione as Bellatrix immediately headed in another direction once they reached the Great Hall, choosing today to sit with Rodolphus, Rabastan, and their friends. The sight had bile rising in the back of Hermione’s throat, and she focused all of her attention on the fifth year before her. 

“I snagged it for you, since I didn’t know if you were making it to breakfast,” Andromeda continued when Hermione didn’t respond, but she took the letter with a whispered ‘thank you’ as she sat beside her friend. 

Mechanically, she grabbed some food: a muffin, a tiny helping of eggs, and poured a glass of water. The longer she thought about how easily Bellatrix slid into the empty seat beside Rodolphus, the longer she thought about why seeing Hermione with Daniel upset her so much, the more Hermione lost her appetite. 

Andromeda took notice of all of this. “Are you okay?” She frowned, and followed Hermione’s line of sight until she saw her sister, pushing around a helping of food and saying nothing to anyone beside her. “Oh, did something happen with Bella?”

“No,” Hermione said quickly, too quickly, and watched as Andromeda’s eyebrow raised in disbelief. She changed the subject. “How is your Runes assignment going?” Ancient Runes was the only course Andromeda truly struggled with, and Hermione had spent the last nearly four months of her being here to help the girl in the course. 

“It’s fine,” was the response Hermione received, though Andromeda watch her carefully for a moment longer before she added, “She likes helping you with Quidditch.” 

“I’m sure that's a lie.” Hermione ignored the way her stomach flipped at the statement. There was no way it was true, or if it was, it was more so along the lines of Bellatrix probably enjoying making fun of Hermione, which she did often. 

But Andromeda insisted it was real. “She said as much, in her roundabout Bella way. And she’s glad you’re her partner with Fatty, even if Dumbledore insisted it. She thinks it worked out well.” 

“And she just... tells you all of these things?” 

“Yes and no.”

That answered nothing. Hermione said as much, and Andromeda just smiled, looked to Bellatrix once more, and went back to eating her toast. 

Hermione really, really just wanted to go take a shower and then spend the rest of the day sleeping, even though she knew her body and mind would never let her do that. She’d go and work on an assignment, or read ahead for the week, but sleep was definitely off the table. 

Hoping for a distraction from everything with Bellatrix, and now Andromeda, Hermione finally opened the letter addressed to her. 

_Miss Potter,_

_Following a stellar introductory dinner, you met all expectations placed upon you. While your skills and dedication in the classroom speak for themselves, your discussions during our meal added depth to the conversation. I greatly cherish students able to approach new ideas with an open mind, and you have one of the most interesting minds I have had the pleasure of meeting._

_With that being said, I would like to formally welcome you to the Slug Club. Your acceptance is official and absolute, and you shall remain in the club until the time of your graduation. At that time, you will find yourself with a very strongly worded recommendation to any job of your choosing. I have no doubt it will be one in a position worthy of such a brain._

_Furthermore, you are hereby invited to the annual end of semester Christmas party, held in my office. Any plus one of your choosing is welcome, and I look forward to more debate on a myriad of topics from you._

_Yours truly,  
Professor Horace Slughorn_

Hermione read on for the date and time, and discovered it would be the last Saturday before term ended, which also happened to be the day of the last Quidditch match before vacation. Slytherin was playing Ravenclaw, and it very well may be Hermione’s final game as a beater for the team, if their original chaser is back to being 100%. 

It was a relatively depressing thought. Hermione had come to enjoy practicing with the team every day, not to mention training with Bellatrix.. She even liked the thrill of the games, and was looking forward to the next one. The idea that it would be ending sooner than later hadn’t even crossed her mind. 

And it shouldn’t be now either, not when is wasn't a definite, and the date was so far away. Now she needed to focus on her studies and the upcoming exams, especially as each day added a new weight to her chest the closer and closer they got to Christmas. Hermione still hadn’t quite figured out what she’d be doing for it, as she should be staying on the castle grounds for the two weeks, seeing as she had no family to go to. 

But then there would be nothing stopping Bellatrix from doing whatever Voldemort had in store for her. Hermione needed a plan, and she needed one soon. 


	11. XI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay on this chapter, my laptop took a shit so I had to wait. but this is 10k so I hope that makes up for it! enjoy :)

Bellatrix could not be found the days following their argument on the Quidditch pitch, unless it was doing meals, classes, or the entire team’s practice. Hermione had went early the next two mornings to the field to meet up with her, and upon her being absent both days, had declined attempting a third, forth, or fifth time. Hermione wouldn’t lie and say the rejection didn’t sting. She thought they were making decent progress, and Bellatrix had gone and ruined it all in just a couple hours.

It hurt, and so Hermione did the only thing she knew when it came to processing emotions.

Throwing herself into her coursework and blocking out the world.

Mid semester examinations would be next month anyway, and she had barely devoted any time to truly studying for them. Even if this was not Hermione’s timeline, and she had no clue how long she would be here, she would not risk a failing grade, and so she resigned herself to putting off hanging out with friends in favor of studying for the exams.

Transfiguration was where she put most of her focus, as McGonagall’s were always a bit tougher than others, and she needed to get an Outstanding. Besides, she had not had the opportunity to complete her real seventh year, and would take every chance she had at getting more information and showing her knowledge, even if in the end this would have zero impact on her actual school grades once everything was sorted out.

Daniel joined her every now and then, and he understood her well enough to know not to bother her too much when she sequestered herself in the library all afternoon after classes. He mainly kept to himself, and would occasionally ask a question about any of the topics they were going over that day or offer his own input.

A few times Andromeda had come with them to study for her own exams, and it seemed she was as dedicated to her coursework as Hermione, and still struggled only with Ancient Runes. Daniel admitted to having issues with the course when he had taken it, and offered his own advice to help the fifth year understand the topic better.

The most interesting time was when Narcissa had joined them as well, claiming one of the empty seats around their table as if she were a queen and it was her throne. She said nothing to any of them aside from a quiet ‘hello’, before she opened her texts and got to work. Andromeda had mocked her sister for a good while after Narcissa joined, to the point that Hermione had told her that if she didn’t knock it off, she was getting hexed. 

Even Narcissa had laughed at the indignant look on Andromeda’s face, the sound low and gentle and short lived before she sobered up and continued taking notes, but Hermione didn’t fail to notice the girl’s shoulders were a bit more relaxed after that, and she continued to join the group more often than she didn’t. 

None of them mentioned Bellatrix’s absence, even Andromeda being wise enough to make zero jokes or antagonize either Narcissa or Hermione into an argument out of boredom. 

The monotony of studying so much for examinations was broken up only by going to feed Fatty every day, though Bellatrix had stopped tagging along so they could feed him together. She’s sure the girl is still visiting, as there were more than a few times Hermione had arrived to find the Brownie curled into a ball fast asleep in his nest, his fuzzy face still wet with milk and the empty bottle near the wall. 

During the last week of November, Hermione was not alone when she left early at breakfast to go feed Fatty, though she was not accompanied by the person her mind was caught up about. Instead, it was Narcissa who asked (politely demanded, more accurately) to tag along to the shed.

“He’s big enough now that you don’t really have to hold him anymore or anything,” Hermione instructed as she watched the third year hand the creature the tiny make shift bottle, and then Fatty eagerly latch on and start sucking. “He gulps it down, so the only thing you have to actually do is make sure he doesn’t choke himself or anything.”

She was more or less rambling, unsure how to proceed with having Narcissa joining her, especially when every single one of their previous interactions had never been overly pleasant. The youngest Black had fallen somewhere in the middle of both of her sisters, never outright being hostile to her like Bellatrix was before, but not welcoming like Andromeda.

Studying so often together helped somewhat, Hermione guessed, but they were a long way from any sort of true friendship. 

And not to mention the two of them have never been alone together. Narcissa was definitely the sister Hermione understood the least, and that was saying something given how enigmatic Bellatrix was. But at least her and Bellatrix interacted enough for Hermione to be able to relatively gauge her moods and intentions now. The same could not be said for Narcissa.

“So, uh, is this your first time meeting Fatty?” Hermione asked, talking more when the blonde did not respond.

“No,” Narcissa said, and offered no other sort of information for when she would have come here, though Hermione knew Bellatrix had probably brought her before, as she had with Andromeda.

“Right.”

Narcissa turned at that, looking at Hermione with pursed lips. She was the most aristocratic of the three of them, the most refined and elegant. Hermione had only met the grown version of the child before her a handful of times, and none of them had been overly pleasant, though Narcissa had never been overly rude, save for turning her back when Bellatrix tortured her.

But this would be the only one of them to do what was expected of pureblooded girls; marry a pureblooded son and carry on the bloodline. Andromeda would be burned from the family tree, and Bellatrix would marry a pureblood but sire no children. Only Narcissa truly did what was demanded of her, and she handled it with the utmost grace one could except. Even if she raised a twerp for a son, though Hermione had to admit Draco took after his father more than his mother. 

“How is studying going?” Hermione tried again, despite knowing that Narcissa was studying as much as they all were, and had never heard the girl complain about her courses. 

“It’s going well.” 

“Right.” 

Fatty whined and dropped the bottle, and when Hermione went to reach to take the empty container from him he swatted at her, and she poked his fat stomach in retaliation, which earned her a high pitched shriek from the creature and a low chuckle from Narcissa. 

“It doesn’t seem like the Brownie is a fan of you.” 

“Tell me about it,” Hermione grumbled as she glared at Fatty and succeeded in taking the bottle away from him. After another minute of silence she sighed and turned to face the blonde girl head on. “Why are you really here, Narcissa?” 

Narcissa looked as if she smelled something particularly foul right in that moment, with how her nose was scrunched up and her full lips were pulled into a scowl. But she looked to Hermione nonetheless, and said, “I am aware I haven’t been the most welcoming to you these past few months.” Complete silence from both of them came after that unexpected statement. The blonde sighed and spoke once more. “It is... that was rude of me. You’ve been a good friend to Andy, and you and Bella are on relatively good terms. It doesn’t make sense for me to hate you. I suppose we should start over.” 

There weren’t many times Hermione was speechless. She could admit she talks a lot, both in the classroom and outside of it, and after everything she’s seen during her time at Hogwarts, there weren’t many things left that could render her speechless. It seemed, however, that the Black sisters were exceedingly skilled at doing so, as Hermione could do little more than just stare at Narcissa.

A thin, well maintained eyebrow was raised at Hermione’s lack of response, and the older girl blinked in return, before she said, slightly slowly, “Um, yeah, that sounds, uh- really nice. I’d love to be your friend.” 

It was clear Narcissa felt as if that conversation was finished, as she turned back to look at Fatty, who had once more quickly finished his bottle. She began to ask all sorts of questions about the Brownie. Hermione talked eagerly, discussing all the research they’ve discovered about the species, and mentioning how in less than a month, Fatty would be removed from their care and taken to whatever place the school deemed safest. It was a bit heartbreaking to think of never seeing Fatty again. 

Though, when Narcissa put her hand into the nest and the stupid nuisance eagerly climbed onto her palm, Hermione wasn’t feeling too sad anymore. 

“Oh, are you _kidding_ me?” 

* * *

“Hey!” Hermione had just reached the field with the rest of her team when she heard Daniel’s loud voice calling for her. As she turned to send him a confused look, she heard Bellatrix’s scoff at the arrival of one of her least liked people, though Hermione gave her no reaction as she walked off to greet the Gryffindor.

“Daniel, what are you doing here?” Most of the students wouldn’t be arriving for a bit still, all of them at breakfast or still waking up. Steve had pulled the team for a last minute meeting before the match, and so there was still a considerable amount of time before the game would begin.

“I wanted to talk to you before the match begins,” Daniel explained, his voice holding that hint of nervousness he sometimes had when talking to her. “I just... I really like you, Hermione Potter, and, well, I was hoping-” he rambled, his words getting jumbled on top of one another before he sucked in a deep breath. “We’ve had fun on our dates, right?”

He wasn’t inaccurate in that statement. They’ve gone out a few times, both to trips to Hogsmeade and hanging out around the castle grounds, and Hermione had always enjoyed the time she spent with him. However, she had a feeling he’s been enjoying those times on a lot deeper level than she had. To her, there hadn’t been much difference with being around Daniel than there was to being around Harry or Ron. It was that realization that led her to knowing she needed to clarify whatever was happening between them was not meant to be, but before she could even open her mouth to say as much, Daniel was talking once more.

“I really like you, Hermione,” he said again, his ears flaming. “And I’d love it, really love it actually, if you’d be my girlfriend? Officially?”

This was going to hurt so much, but- “I can’t, Daniel.”

His nice smile fell as his shoulders slumped, and Hermione didn’t miss the beginnings of tears in his bright eyes before he blinked them away. “Oh, uh, yeah, um, of course.” He scratched the back of his head and looked anywhere but her face. “Can I, uh, can I ask why? Like- like, was it something I did to upset you, or-”

“Daniel- no!” Hermione frowned as she stepped forward, only to halt. He probably didn’t want physical comfort after she just rejected him. “There wasn’t anything you did, I promise. It’s just, well-” Well what? How did she even begin to explain all the ways that this wouldn’t work out well for them? Aside from the fact that her heart wasn’t into this like his so clearly was, what happened when she went back to her time? Daniel could never know the truth about why she was here, and so he could never know the truth about why she was leaving.

And none of that even grazed the topic of how Bellatrix fit into all of this and-

Wait, what? Where had that thought come from? Bellatrix had no influence on Hermione’s relationship, aside from being a pain in her side whenever possible, but she should not be a consideration in the slightest. Why had Hermione even thought that?

“Is it someone else?” He turned to look in the direction her teammates had disappeared to, and nodded. “I understand, Hermione, really, I do.” A weak smile was on his otherwise handsome face, but he nodded his head and took a deep breath. “Thank you for being honest with me. I truly appreciate it. Uh, if it’s not too weird, would you still like to go with me to Slughorn’s like planned? As friends, just friends, I promise.”

Still a bit thrown off by the intrusive thought of Bellatrix, Hermione took a moment to process what he had said, and then smiled gently at him. “I’d like that, Daniel,” she said softly, very relieved he wasn’t making a big deal out of this and had easily accepted her rejection. Though, she truly expected nothing less of him, as he had never given her any indication of acting any different.

Another voice called her name, this one louder and deeper than Daniel’s, and she turned to find Steve towards the stadium, impatiently waving his hand to get her to catch up. Daniel had thrown her off, and she had entirely forgotten about the upcoming match.

“I need to go get ready for the match. You’re staying to watch, right?” She felt slightly awkward asking him that, as she had just broken his heart, but that pretty smile was back and he nodded. “Good, okay, I need to go. See you tonight.”

He waved her off with instructions of meeting her in one of the halls before they go to the Christmas party, and then she rushed to join her team before the match began.

By the time Hermione reached the Slytherin’s dugout, the rest of the team were waiting for her, all centered around Steve, and all with their brooms in their hands. Steve gave her an acknowledging head nod before he began his pre-game speech. 

“Okay, guys, listen up. Ravenclaw is right behind us in points, we all know it, they all know it, and they’re gonna play like it too. Gryffindor has already proven they were willing to permanently take one of us out, let's not put it past Ravenclaw to feel the same. Everyone be on the look out for yourselves and each other.” 

They all mumbled their agreement, looking around at one another and patting the others on the backs, and Hermione smiled right along with them. It felt great to be a part of something like this, even if today might very well be the last time she played with them as a team. Maybe she could still join for a few practices though... 

“On another note, we just have to win. It doesn’t matter by how much, but of course, the more points we get, the more we further our lead, which we all want.” Steve nodded his head, more to himself than any of them, before he sucked in a deep breath and gave them all a charming smile. “Look, what I’m saying is, this is a match we’re going to crush. I know it, you know it, everyone out there knows it. Let’s go show them why Slytherin is the house to fear!” 

It was a rallying statement that would have made Oliver Wood proud, from what Hermione had learned from Harry and observed herself all of those years, and so with a loud cry of agreement with the rest of the team, the seven of them fell into formation standing over their brooms and waited for the ref to announce their house. 

By the time they could hear the stadium filling, the crowd loudly chanting the house names and conversing to one another, Hermione had long since forgotten about rejecting Daniel, or the party tonight, or anything at all that wasn’t annihilating Ravenclaw during this match. 

Well, that, and Bellatrix, who was in the row ahead and directly in front of Hermione. 

Had the girl always looked that good in the uniform? Hermione had to admit Slytherin did have the nicest outfits, and the tan pants hugged all of her muscled curves nicely. Bellatrix was well formed, even Hermione had to appreciate that, and the dark witch had visibly worked hard for all of her muscles. 

Of which there was a lot. 

Hermione had not been blind to the girl’s body, even from the beginning, and every time one of their arguments would turn physical, she could feel all of those many, many muscles working hard to get the upper hand. 

None of those had anything on the kiss in the lake, when both of them were so very hardly dressed, and there had been nothing stopping Hermione from feeling the way Bellatrix’s muscles had tensed and twitched under Hermione’s curious hand and- 

_Stop_. What was wrong with her and these thoughts all of the sudden? She needed to focus on the match, not admiring Bellatrix. 

As if sensing the attention on her, the one in question turned her head to the side to look behind her at Hermione. Upon discovering the brunette’s gaze already on her, the corner of Bellatrix’s wicked mouth jerked up, and she winked (winked) at Hermione, as if they had been fine all this time, as if they hadn’t not interacted with one another one on one for some time now. 

To make it so much worse, Bellatrix said, too low for anyone but Hermione to hear, “Knock them dead, dragon-rider.” She promptly turned her head back to the front, and a moment later the ref was announcing Slytherin to enter the pitch and begin the game. 

Right from the very beginning Ravenclaw made it clear they were not here to lose. Their beaters were aggressive, their chasers determined, and their keeper refusing to let any balls through. Only twice now did Slytherin manage to score a goal, and that left them in the lead by only ten points. 

Hermione was panting hard as she flew through the sky, on the look out for flying bludgers while also keeping an eye on the Ravenclaw seeker. So far, both teams seekers remained high above, searching for the little golden ball that would end the game, though neither player made a move to signify they had seen it. 

It didn’t help that it was bitingly cold outside today, and Hermione could see her ragged breathing coming out in puffs of visible air. The bat was heavy in her hand, hanging limply against the side of her broom as she rushed through the air. Ryan flew by her occasionally, looking just as annoyed as she felt at the slow progress of the game, and Steve was shouting at them all constantly to not lose focus. 

It was definitely hard, when they were more than thirty minutes in and at a stalemate, with still no sign of the snitch. Hermione had whacked the other team a few times now, even going as far as knocking two of them chasers into one another, but that had been the most exciting part for her so far. 

Was this truly how her last match would go? Slow and boring, neither team truly scoring until the snitch was found?

As she thought it, it was as it the universe was now determined to prove her wrong, because Bellatrix finally got the Quaffle in her hand, and darted off faster than Ravenclaw could keep up. Hermione stayed near her, keeping guard to ensure no rogue bludgers knocked the girl from her goal, until they reached the posts and Bellatrix lofted the ball with all her might through the middle goal. 

“10 POINTS TO SLYTHERIN!” The announced yell, and their house went wild, as they were now up by twenty. 

The new points rejuvenated the team, and the two other chasers became more determined to score as well, and before Hermione could even catch up, they soon were up by fifty. 

One of the Ravenclaw chasers was obviously not thrilled at the new development, and motioned for their captain to call a time out. Slytherin took the moment to catch their breaths on the ground, Steve giving a quick pep talk, and soon the whistle was blown again. 

It very quickly became clear that Ravenclaw had one goal in mind, similar to Gryffindor’s during Hermione’s first match. Instead of her being the target this time, the opposing team had decided Bellatrix was the biggest threat, and focused much of their attention on her. 

Well, _that_ wasn’t going to stand. 

Ryan and Hermione unanimously decided they were done pulling any sort of punches, and started attacking Ravenclaw and defending Bellatrix with a renewed rigor. 

For her part, Bellatrix was furious to be targeted, and had to be warned by the ref three times that screaming insults at the other players would not be tolerated. By the fourth, the ref yelled one more and she would be done the match. It was enough to keep Bellatrix quiet- barely, and so Hermione was determined not to let any of the Ravenclaw’s close to her teammate. 

Eventually, one of the beaters got too close for comfort, and Hermione swung the bludger as hard as she possibly could in their direction. They were able to swerve to avoid it, but the message was received nonetheless, and the beaters backed a bit off of Bellatrix for the time being. 

Tony must have caught sight of the snitch then, as he suddenly dipped low beneath them all and flew by. Ravenclaw’s seeker trailed him closely, either having spotted it or blindly following him to try and catch it first. 

The new movement provided enough of a distraction that Victoria scored another goal, and Hermione sent a bludger to one of Ravenclaw’s chaser to keep him away from Slytherin’s post. The ball hit him hard in the side, and he took a steep dip before regaining control. 

Time passed quickly after that, with Hermione staying close to Bellatrix and keeping guard, and had hit the other team more times than she could count. It wasn’t until the sun was high in the sky, and Slytherin up by eighty, did they finally hear the announcer yell out, “SLYTHERIN WINS!” 

Hermione hadn’t even realized Tony was once again on the move, as she had gripped the back of Sebastian’s cloak to jerk him downwards as a flying bludger barely missed them both. His back had been turned, focused on tracking the Quaffle, and would have taken the ball directly in the back of the head. 

He nodded his thanks multiple times as they both dipped to the ground to throw their arms around Tony, who looked less than thrilled at the contact but held the golden snitch up proudly as the rest of their house rushed the field. 

Andromeda and Narcissa were there, both of them expressing how they viewed the game, and the youngest even took a minute to claim Hermione had played impressively. It was the only compliment she gave, but given their new status as Narcissa no longer despising her, she would take it, and smiled happily back, even as Andromeda crushed her in a hug. 

Once the chaos had died down, and Hermione was able to leave the field, she caught sight of Bellatrix leaving with Rodolphus, not a word to any of her teammates, and ignored the sharp twitch of pain Hermione felt in her chest. Bellatrix couldn’t even stick around when this was Hermione’s last game? 

“C’mon!” Victoria laughed and grabbed Hermione’s hand, forcing her from her depressing thoughts, even as he eyes remained glued to Bellatrix’s retreating form. “We’re going to celebrate in the common room!” 

* * *

Daniel was waiting for Hermione in one of the halls near the courtyard, wearing black dress pants and matching suit jacket, with a burgundy button down and slim black tie below. His sandy hair was pushed back away from his face, showing off his strong jaw and dark brown eyes. In his hands was a small red flower, which he held out to her when she neared him.

“Whoa, you look... amazing.” His eyes were wide as he spoke, and helped Hermione tuck the flower behind her ear as he kept staring at her.

Andromeda had dressed her once more, now in a silver long sleeve dress with a high neckline and hem that ended a bit over her knees. Her hair was half up and half down, and she had even let Andromeda put a bit of lipgloss on her, after she had snuck into Narcissa’s dorm to steal some of the younger girl’s make up, as she was the only one of them to occasionally use it.

Hermione and Daniel matched well enough, she supposed, as he offered her his arm and they walked down the hallway, the only sound her flats tapping against the stone floor. Andromeda had tried to suggest heels, but that was promptly shut down by Hermione, and so flats it was.

By the time they had reached the hall where Slughorn’s office was located, they saw many others also making their way to the party. Everyone they saw dressed in their finest outfits to impress the professor and other students gathered. They ran into a Ravenclaw Quidditch player that Daniel seemed to be on friendly terms with, and so they stopped to talk about today’s match. The Ravenclaw student had accepted the win good-naturedly, and aside from a few jabs at Hermione and the other Slytherin beater playing rough, the three of them got along well enough as they all walked into the spacious office. 

A spell must have been placed on the room to expand, as it was much larger than Hermione remembered it, and decked out in reds and greens, and a few golds sprinkled here and there. Tinsel and banners hung from all visible shelves, and floating candles were spelled to shine alternating Christmas colors. In a few corners and on select surfaces, laid snow, once more spelled to stay cold and frozen to avoid melting into wet puddles. 

Overall, the entire decor was gorgeous, and Hermione allowed herself to get swept up into the ambiance of the event. She was running on a high again from Quidditch, and nothing would be able to bring it down, not even the confusing actions of Bellatrix before the match, or hurting Daniel. The former had disappeared right after the game with Rodolphus, and had not stayed to celebrate like usual, and the latter was acting completely fine, which did make Hermione feel a tad better about the whole situation. 

Thankfully, the party and winning the game were enough to keep her spirits high, even as she subtly continued to look for a certain dark haired witch as they made their rounds and said their hellos. Slughorn came up soon, and the three of them, as well as a few other seventh years, soon fell into a light hearted discussion about unicorns. 

Before long, Slughorn had to move on to another group, and left them to their own devices. 

There were a handful of other Slytherins a part of the Slug Club, and Hermione immediately found Steve against one of the far walls, Lilith on his arm as they talked to some others. Hermione hadn’t had much time to interact with Lilith or Amelia in recent weeks, too caught up in everything having to do with Bellatrix, but finding the girl at the event did bring a smile to her face, and she walked over to talk.

Lilith smiled brightly when she noticed Hermione by her, and didn't hesitate to pull her into a tight hug that Hermione eagerly returned. When they pulled away, Hermione looked her friend over, and found her in a flattering pink dress that just looked lovely on her, and she said as much.

“You’re one to talk, wow! I’m not used to seeing you so dressed up,” Lilith joked, and dragged Hermione away from the group of boys Steve was with, over to the food table for some light eating. “I saw you come in and was about to go say hello when you came up to me. You’re really here with Daniel Corbin?”

“Yeah, we’re friends.” Hermione looked over the array of cheeses, meats, salads, and breads, before she settled on bread and cheese, and a glass of butterbeer. Slughorn had managed to procure a large amount of the well loved drink, and nearly all of the students in attendance had a glass in their hand. “I didn’t know you and Steve were together.” 

Lilith shrugged as she gathered a small salad on her plate. “He just asked me to come with him to this event last week. We didn’t really talk much before, but I certainly wasn’t saying no to Slytherin’s captain! I can’t wrap my head around you being friends with Gryffindor’s. Isn’t it a bit uncomfortable?”

The idea that Hermione would ever be uncomfortable dating a Gryffindor was laughable. It was too bad no one but herself would have gotten the joke. Ron would have found this entire thing hilarious, and would have teased her without hesitation over it all. “Not really,” she said with a soft smile. “He’s very nice.”

Lilith started to say something to Hermione, but it was as if she was listening while underwater. All of her attention immediately honed in to the two newest arrivals, who still stood by the door of Slughorn’s office, talking to the professor.

Her glance at Rodolphus lasted only long enough to take in his all black suit, finely tailored and form fitted to his body. His wavy hair was tied into a neat bun at the back of his head, and during the last few weeks he had allow a bit of facial hair to grow in, all well kept and suited his face nicely.

None of that could hold a candle to the young woman who stood beside him.

There had been many, many instances where Hermione thought Bellatrix looked beautiful. It was hard not to think that, really, but every other single time paled in comparison to looking at the witch right now.

In Slughorn’s last party, Bellatrix had been in a dark red dress, and tonight she had once more forgone her typical style of all black in favor of a deep green. Like Hermione’s, it was long sleeved, but that was wear the similarities between their dresses ended. The front of Bellatrix’s ended at her knees, while the back went on to trail against the ground slightly, and the top part was cut in a tight v-neck that showed off her prominent collarbones and just the barest hint of the top and middle of her breasts. Her heels were black, high enough to make her only slightly shorter than Rodolphus, and her ensemble was complete by her hair, pulled into an overly messy bun with a few strands falling down to outline her face.

Holy Merlin, her face.

Someone had to have helped with her makeup, as there was no way Bellatrix, who never tended to wear anything, was that skilled at applying the products. She had darkened her eyebrows, and thick kohl lined her already dark eyes, the edges smudged to create a smokey look that surrounded her eyes. Hermione thought that if she herself had tried the technique, she would have looked like a wet raccoon, but the chaotic look worked in the best sort of way for Bellatrix.

All of the guys in the room were trained on every single one of Bellatrix’s movements, and Hermione couldn't even focus enough to be ashamed to be staring right along with them. Everything about her was screaming Bellatrix Bellatrix Bellatrix. Her very heart beat was pumping the name through her, and before she had even consciously been aware of what she was doing she started walking in the direction of the couple.

Rodolphus spotted her first, and gave her that cocky grin as he watched her approach. Hermione dismissed him right away. Bellatrix was still deep in conversation with Slughorn, but Hermione would have bet money the girl was aware of her approach.

“My father advised me to thank you once more for the recommendation letter,” Hermione caught Bellatrix saying, her tone overly sweet, clearly sarcastic but Slughorn didn’t seem to catch on. “My family greatly appreciated you writing it, and so early too.”

Finally, finally, those eyes unlike any other slid to look at Hermione, that slightly subdued smile she was using with Slughorn shifting to something far nastier and infinitely more attractive.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Bellatrix said to their professor before slipping her hand around Rodolphus’ arm and walking away.

Ignoring Hermione entirely.

Someone came up beside Hermione, and it took her a moment to process that it was Daniel. He had two cups of butterbeer in his hand, and when he handed one to her she gulped it down greedily. She hadn’t even noticed how dry her mouth and throat had become.

“Are you okay, Hermione?” Daniel’s voice was laced with concern as he looked down at her, and she forced herself to suck in a deep breath. Was it really that hot in here, or was it just her?

She turned to look at him and plastered on a painfully fake smile that he thankfully didn’t notice, and grabbed his hand. “Let’s mingle.” 

Daniel continued to watch her, as if not quite believing she was perfectly fine, but Hermione refused to talk about it, refused to really acknowledge how much everything about Bellatrix was weighing on her. But he let her lead them far away from that part of them room, and to where a small group of Gryffindor’s were talking. They eyed her apprehensively as she approached, though kept their mouths shut about her house as Daniel and her started talking. 

That was how the first hour or so went for Hermione, moving from group to group, talking and laughing and not at all thinking about the annoying witch somewhere in this room. The last time Hermione had looked for her, she found Bellatrix in a corner with a pretty blonde girl, both of them completely focused on the conversation. 

Something about the sight infuriated Hermione nearly as much as seeing Bellatrix being touched by Rodolphus, and it was only made worse when whatever the blonde said made Bellatrix laugh, truly and honestly. 

“Hermione?” Daniel’s face came into her line of sight, his eyebrows ruffled and his mouth in a frown. He was concerned over something. “I’ve been trying to get your attention, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, and pulled on his sleeve when he tried to follow her line of sight to Bellatrix. “Are you hungry?” 

He once more didn’t push the subject, and trailed behind Hermione as she went to the food table, well across the room from Bellatrix and with her back to the two witches, and forced herself to start having fun, refusing to think anymore of Bellatrix or the blonde. 

The party this time around was not nearly as terrible as it had been when in her timeline, though she credited that to no Cormac’s trying to kiss her, no Draco’s sneaking around the hall, and no Harry’s trying to figure out their professor’s secrets. This was normal, and mundane, and Hermione was actually a bit bored, even as she stood in a circle with Lilith and a couple girls from Ravenclaw. For the most part they talked about their classes, and for a bit Hermione discussed Quidditch, and how she had grown to love the sport, but overall their conversations didn’t delve below the surface level, and she found herself counting down the minutes until it would be acceptable to leave. 

Daniel popped in and out, but he had been swept up into a conversation with Slughorn well over twenty minutes that showed no signs of ending anytime soon. It was unfortunate that she couldn’t pull him away to try and escape with her, but a tiny part of her was revealed he was distracted. They had been running out of things to talk about, and he still hadn’t entirely forgotten her acting off when Bellatrix first arrived. 

Speaking of which- 

Hermione scanned the crowd to find the girl in question, but could spot her nowhere. Rodolphus was easy to find, in the center of the room with the other Slytherin boys, dominating the conversation and laughing about something. But Bellatrix was nowhere to be seen. Hermione frowned. Did she leave already? It wouldn’t be out of character for her to just leave the moment she became bored of this, but to do so without Rodolphus? 

“Hello, traitor.” 

The voice was directly behind her, and Hermione spun around quickly to find Bellatrix standing closely, her dark colored lips pulled into a grin that showed too many teeth. “Looking for someone?” 

“Daniel,” Hermione lied, despite knowing he was in her vicinity. Bellatrix knew it as well, and didn’t hesitate to call her out on it. 

“I don’t think so.” 

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business.” The girls around Hermione picked up her aggravated tone, took one look at Bellatrix’s face, and suddenly found any other place more interesting to stand and talk. Lilith threw her a look before she walked away as well, though Hermione was too enveloped with Bellatrix to process it. 

“As we both know you were not looking for Daniel, I do believe it is my business,” Bellatrix shrugged in a way that she knew sent Hermione’s teeth grinding. “But so long as you would like to play stupid, by all means, continue.” 

“Or, we could talk about you,” Hermione hissed, and resisted the urge to shove the girl backwards. Who did she think she was to act so hot and cold towards Hermione all this time, and send her head spiraling with each thought? Why did she get to remain so visibly unaffected by not talking to Hermione, and yet Hermione herself couldn’t say the same? Besides, why was everything on her terms? 

Bellatrix smiled, and gestured to one of the recently empty couches in the corner of the room before she walked- sauntered, more like it- to it, leaving Hermione with no choice but to follow if she wished the conversation to continue. 

Once they had sat down, Bellatrix sitting as if the seat were a throne and she the queen, with one leg crossed over the other, Hermione needed a moment to pull her eyes away from the pale skin now visible from the movement. When she did finally manage to jerk her eyes upwards, Bellatrix was grinning at her, as if she knew every single thought going through Hermione’s mind. 

“Well? Get on with talking about me. I do love to hear about myself,” the girl teased, seemingly not caring at all that she had Hermione bothered by anything. 

“You’ve been ignoring me for weeks. You only talk to me in class or practice.” 

“And what of it, traitor?” 

“I told you to stop calling me-” Hermione’s voice raised, and it gained the attention of a few of the surrounding students. She blushed from the sudden multiple looks in her direction, and dropped her voice to barely above a whisper. “You know I can’t stand that. I also can’t stand that you’ve been ignoring me so much recently and don’t even seem to care.” 

Bellatrix’s head cocked to the side, parts of her hair falling in front of her dark eyes, and Hermione tracked the movement of her shoving it back behind her ear. “I hadn’t realized you cared so much if we talked, Potter.”

“I-” What did she say here? She did care, that much was obvious, but it was one thing to imply it, and another entirely to voice it, especially to Bellatrix of all people, who looked for anything to make fun of with Hermione on a daily basis. It didn’t matter, and Hermione was tired of denying it. “I do care, you stupid witch,” she growled as she crossed her arms, and had to hold back the smile at the noise Bellatrix made, a cross between a laugh and a surprised huff. 

“Perhaps I should stop ignoring you then,” was the quiet reply, Bellatrix’s gaze anywhere but on Hermione, her lips slightly pursed and her eyebrows furrowed. “As you can’t seem to survive without my attention.” 

The obvious joke had done its job of breaking the odd tension between them, and Hermione even let out a quiet laugh. “You’re incorrigible.” 

“Perhaps.” 

It was much too easy for them to fall back into this roll, even after weeks of Bellatrix going out of her way to avoid Hermione. It felt as if none of that had even happened as they moved into a simple conversation, sometimes the topics lapsing but never once feeling awkward or uncomfortable. 

Hermione didn't bother to question why Bellatrix was spending so much time talking to her when she could be with Rodolphus or anyone else, if only out of fear the girl would get up and walk away. In this moment, Hermione was echoing having Bellatrix’s attention on her for so long. 

Bellatrix’s arm was thrown around the couch as she shifted to face Hermione, none of the other students in the room paying them any mind as they remained in one of the corners. Hermione had long since lost track of Daniel, mingling somewhere with the other Gryffindors and a few Hufflepuffs, most likely. Last she saw of him was moments before Bellatrix pulled her to the couch, and he was deep in conversation with another boy from his house.

“Are you enjoying Slughorn’s party?” Bellatrix asked, her voice low enough to be nearly tuned out by the music playing. Hermione had to inch closer to properly hear her.

“It’s okay. Are you?” Hermione replied back, and found she was actually interested in whether Bellatrix was having a nice time or not. She seemed like she was, with how much she had been talking to the other Slytherins, especially that pretty girl from earlier.

But Bellatrix shrugged. “I’m bored.”

Hermione couldn’t keep the words in as she breathed, “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

“Where?”

“Anywhere you want.”

It didn’t take any convincing to get Bellatrix standing and grabbing Hermione's wrist. They told no-one they were leaving, and Hermione ignored the pang of guilt she felt about not telling Daniel goodbye. He had been sweet and fun the entire night, and she couldn’t even remember the last time they had talked during this event.

Of course, the moment Bellatrix turned to look at her as they walked down the empty hall, a wicked grin on her pale face, Hermione forgot all about the Gryffindor, and allowed Bellatrix to keep pulling her until they reached the fourth floor and stopped at a closed door.

“It’s an empty classroom the school hasn’t used in years,” the dark witch explained as she pushed the door open and stepped inside. It was dark and a bit dusty, the room full of empty desks that looked as if they hadn’t been touched in years. Bellatrix walked over to one and sat on the top, her boot clad feet dangling off of the ground. “I come here a lot,” she confessed as she looked around the room. Her nodded towards one of the large windows lining the wall. “Take a look.”

Hermione did as ordered, and when she stepped to the wall, she let out an audible gasp. The classroom overlooked a portion of Black Lake, the view completely beautiful as the full moon reflected against the darkened water. Hermione was mesmerized and couldn’t look away.

At least, until Bellatrix spoke and distracted her once more. “Narcissa is always finding me here whenever I’m not in class or Quidditch.” The corner of her mouth turned upward. “Or arguing with you.”

“You have such a busy schedule then, hm?” Hermione joked back, moving once more to stand beside the other girl. It was like the last month and a half never happened, as if they had not gone that long without interacting save for practice or classes. They had so easily fallen back to where they were before, before Bellatrix was dumb and spiteful and Hermione had gotten defensive and aggressive. 

“You were impressive today,” Bellatrix said, her voice lower than usual as she watched Hermione. “Steve doesn’t think we would have been able to win without you.” 

That boosted her self-esteem, just to hear that the captain of their team valued her addition and skills. She didn’t doubt Steve would have said as much, and figured the rest of the team felt similar, as she had performed exceptionally well during the match today, but... “What about you?” 

Bellatrix’s eyes were darker than before, completely trained on Hermione, and for a long heart beat she said nothing. “What about me?” 

“Would you have won without me?” 

“We’ve managed to win many matches for years before you arrived, now haven't we?” 

Oh. Hermione didn’t know why, but all she was hoping for in that moment was a bit of praise from Bellatrix, and her slumping shoulders must have signaled that, as Bellatrix sucked in a soft breath and spoke again. 

“You never cease to surprise me, Hermione,” Bellatrix’s voice was low as she spoke, but not too quiet that Hermione missed what she said, and was left with her cheeks feeling much too hot. 

“ _Oh_.” 

Bellatrix stood up then, the action bringing them very close together, and Hermione felt herself suck in a quick breath. This close, the height difference between the two was very noticeable, as Hermione had to look down to make eye contact, and her breath caught entirely at the sight of Bellatrix staring up at her. 

How had they gotten here once again? Only hours before Hermione had been fuming that Bellatrix was being her typical, stupid self, and now they were- they were doing this thing. And it was nice, and Hermione couldn’t imagine being with any other person in the world right now, or hearing those words from anyone else. 

_You never cease to surprise me, Hermione_.

She could count on one hand the amount of times Bellatrix had used her first name, and hearing it now was doing things to her she hadn’t been prepared for. 

Obviously, the atmosphere became much too serious for Bellatrix, as she grinned and said, “I mean that in the most insulting way, of course.” 

“Of course,” came Hermione’s quiet reply, though her focus was completely on Bellatrix’s mouth. For just a moment, her eyes dipped lower, taking in the dark striking green of her dress. Part of the fabric had stuck to Hermione’s, and for the first time she realized they represented the house colors of Slytherin. 

Any thought of their clothing was wiped from Hermione’s mind when she felt Bellatrix’s warm mouth pressed against her for the second time in her life. The first, she had been drunk, and hyper focused on the girl, and now, she had been distracted, and the kiss came out of nowhere, and so a surprised gasp left Hermione’s mouth. 

Bellatrix did not waste that opportunity to slip her tongue into Hermione’s now opened mouth, her hands finding easy purchase on Hermione’s waist, while Hermione wasted no time in tangling her hands in Bellatrix’s dark hair. The kiss may have come as a surprise, but she would not let this opportunity disappear as she kissed back harder, loving the feeling of Bellatrix taking control. 

Hermione’s back hit the desk when Bellatrix put pressure on her to move, and she did not hesitate to slide into a sitting position on the furniture, Bellatrix now squarely between her thighs. The dark witch’s hands slid from Hermione’s waist to rest on the top of her legs, stunted nails digging into the cloth of Hermione’s dress, which had bunched upwards from being lifted into a sitting position. 

It seemed the girl was a bit impatient, as while she continued to deeply kiss Hermione, their tongues brushing against one another, Bellatrix’s hands moved downwards, scraping against the silver fabric until they reached the hem, and then going under and upwards once more, only to reach mid thigh, dig her nails in deep, and rake them down again. 

The action caused Hermione to moan loudly, her mouth opened wide and Bellatrix took that opportunity to suck on her bottom lip, pulling it away from her mouth before letting it go with an audible pop. In the split second that they broke away, Hermione took in the sight of Bellatrix, her hair more messed up than usual, and the small amount of lip gloss on her mouth now smeared. Hermione could feel the sticky substance on her own mouth as well, and couldn’t help but swipe her tongue across it to try and wipe some of it away. 

That was enough to have Bellatrix diving back in again, her hands still splayed against Hermione’s now stinging thighs and her tongue once more working inside Hermione’s mouth. Merlin, it felt indescribable, and became even worse when Bellatrix pressed her body as tightly against Hermione’s as possible, once again forcing her nails tightly into the brunette’s skin, hard enough she would be surprised if there was no blood. 

Bellatrix moved then, shifting so she kissed a trail down Hermione’s jaw, until she reached her neck and- 

Holy- 

That was an indescribable sensation as Bellatrix’s hot tongue licked a line along Hermione’s neck, before she bit down roughly, and Hermione could do nothing more than buck up against her, her eyes rolling in the back of her head and breathing out a loud, “ _Bella_.” 

One of Bellatrix’s hands came to grip the other side of Hermione’s neck, keeping her still and in place as she bit and kissed the abused skin, and Hermione just rolled her hips against the other girl’s, nothing at all on her mind save for how good and how _right_ this felt. 

They had to have been kissing for minutes or hours or days, Hermione completely lost track as she grabbed Bellatrix’s face and forced her to kiss her once more, this time she was the one who sucked on Bellatrix’s lip, and even bit it gently. 

The moan Bellatrix gave at that went right to Hermione’s core, and she wanted nothing more than for Bellatrix to- 

To _what_? 

Logical thoughts were trying to break their way through the haze that was covering Hermione’s mind, but the longer Bellatrix kept kissing her like that the harder it became. But ones she couldn’t possibly ignore, despite how good she was feeling right now, kept pressing against the front of her brain. 

And then when Bellatrix’s other hand went to move to grab Hermione in a new place, she brushed against the scar glamoured on her arm, and it all came rushing back. 

How could Hermione do this right now, when basically everything Bellatrix knew about her was a lie? She didn’t know the real her, not really, and now here Hermione was, desperately wishing Bellatrix would just move her hand lower and- 

“Bella,” Hermione tried, but the girl must have taken it as another signal to keep going, as she just mumbled a wordless response and kissed harder. “Bella, wait-” 

Bellatrix pulled back at that, her eyes dark and her lips swollen and wet, and it took all Hermione had not to kiss her again and let whatever was destined to happen play out. But she couldn’t, she couldn't, she couldn’t. 

“We- we can’t do this here and-” Hermione’s mouth was dry, her neck ached in the best way, and her thighs burned. All of it was still fighting her brain to keep going. “We need to stop.” 

The other girl’s chest was heaving as she sucked in much needed air, but she took a step back, ranking a hand through her overly tangled hair. It would do nothing to tame the mess Hermione had created, but it seemed more of a way to keep her hands busy and her away from Hermione than anything else. 

Words were hard, harder still when the ones she needed to stay did not want to come out. She breathed deep, and swallowed spit to soothe her dry throat. “It’s late and- well we should-” Embarrassing rambling was all that was coming out, made worse by Bellatrix just looking at her like that. 

She couldn’t help but wonder how she looked now, was her eyes as wild, her eyes as dark? 

“Right,” Bellatrix groaned out, her voice more raspy than Hermione had ever heard before. “This- we would- I’m-” words seemed to be just as much as a struggle for her, but her response to the situation was to just turn and flee the room in the most un-Bellatrix like way as possible. 

Hermione couldn’t find it in herself to be offended, her brain already struggling to process what had happened, as she slid off the table and straightened her desk. First thing, to the bathroom to see the damage Bellatrix had created, and then to bed, to sleep this all off and deal with everything else in the morning. 

* * *

Slughorn came around to ask the Slytherin students which of them would be staying at Hogwarts for the holidays, and when Hermione put her name down, she noticed she was the only one in her year to do so. It wasn’t a surprise, given that most everyone had been talking about going home for the brief vacation to see their families, and more than a few of the wealthier Slytherins had been discussing their travel plans.

“You’re staying at Hogwarts?” Andromeda asked as she sat beside Hermione in the common room hours later, a book for Transfiguration opened on the table before the her as she rapidly took notes.

Hermione nodded, her attention on finishing the sentence she was in the middle of.

“My parents are away,” she said easily, thinking back to the lie she had told the Slugclub members weeks ago. Her parents were supposedly employed by Gringotts to study containment spells, and them being abroad did provide a nice cover story for while she would remain her. It also saved her from thinking about the truth, that her parents didn’t even know who she was anymore, and she knew nothing of their new location save somewhere in Australia. Or that, should they even survive the war, Hermione had no clue how to bring back all of their lost memories.

She continued with, forcing her voice to stay calm and level, “Doesn’t make sense to go home and be there alone, when I can just stay here and study.”

And stress over what was happening with Bellatrix at Black Manor. And stress over what had happened between the two of them. Again. This time now sober.

Dumbledore’s words were still fresh in her mind: “Bellatrix will be faced with a very terrible choice, during which if she completes it, her fate will be sealed, and nothing you can do can change it”. Of course, he had never told her what that choice would be, or how she was supposed to stop it, given that she would be at the castle and Bellatrix would be home.

There were so many things that could happen at the manor during the two week break, none of them promising. Dumbledore had been very specific that if Bellatrix was allowed to go through with whatever Voldemort had planned, it would solidify her placement as a Death Eater. More than likely she’d receive the Dark Mark that very night, and there would be no going back from that.

But what was it? And why Christmas? She had too many questions and no answers.

“What if you came back with us?” Andromeda began, watching Hermione for her reaction.

“What?” There were a million reasons, probably more, for why that was a terrible idea. “Go to Black Manor?”

“Yeah,” Andromeda spoke as if it was the most simplistic thing she had ever said.

Even though that had been an idea that Hermione had considered often over the past few weeks, she found herself scrambling to find excuses on why she shouldn’t do that. “Uh, wouldn’t your parents be angry?”

Cygnus and Druella Black would most definitely not be happy at having a muggle-born in their home, even if they didn’t know she actually was one. And then there was the problem of if Hermione was unable to stop whatever Death Eater initiation was going to take place, then would she be around to somehow get involved in it if it continued?

Even more nerve-racking was the threat of what if Voldemort himself was at this event?

The logical part of her said that was a highly unlikely scenario, but just because it was improbable did not make it impossible. Bellatrix would go on to become his lieutenant, surely he would have taken some sort of special interest in her early on, right?

Andromeda was unaware of Hermione’s internal struggle as she kept talking. “Our parents are going to be away for most of the break. They’re only coming home for the 24th and 25th, and then they’re leaving again that night.”

The fifth year stuck her bottom lip out in what had to be the most pathetic excuse of begging, and Hermione couldn’t hold back her laugh at the sight. “I think Bellatrix would kill us both if I went home with you.” She tried that tactic instead, knowing Bellatrix’s opinion of Andromeda was important to the girl, and hoped it would be enough to convince her of how rash this decision was.

Hermione did not take into consideration how much Andromeda loved to annoy her sister.

“I know,” she laughed. “That’s a benefit, not a negative. She’s been so moody with everyone recently. This break could be good for both of you if you come.”

“And why is that?” Hermione challenged, and watched as Andromeda wrinkled her nose and hesitated to say anything. “Andy.”

“Well, it’s just, you know...” Andromeda waved her hand as if that explained everything. She must have read the look on Hermione’s face properly because she sighed and blurted everything out. “Honestly, Hermione, I know something is going on between the both of you, and it’s driving me bloody mad having to watch the mess that is you two interacting.”

What in Merlin’s name does that mean?

“Something going on between the two of us?” Hermione pressed, even as her heart skipped a beat and her breath got caught in her throat. Her neck still ached, the deep red marks hidden by another glamour, and her legs had faired no better. Bits of skin had been broken, and Hermione had had to wipe blood off after she took of her dress that night, but thankfully their uniforms had covered that part. “I don’t know what you’re-” 

“She told me the two of you kissed.”

The Black sisters were definitely very skilled at leaving Hermione speechless.

Now the question became, which kiss did Bellatrix tell her sister about? 

Andromeda sucked in a resigned breath and leaned her head against the back of the couch as she started talking. “She’d kill me if she knew, but... the other day I found her drunk in the field with Rodolphus and his friends. She was screaming at him when I got to her, so I made her leave. She spent the entire walk ranting about him, and then about our family, and you of course, and then she said you kissed, and really, I thought she was talking about Rodolphus and thought that was odd, because they’ve kissed before and all.”

Hermione held in her cringe at that, but stayed quiet to listen. 

“So I didn’t understand why she’d be talking about it like that, but then she said your name, and well, it all sort of fell into place after that...” Andromeda’s cheeks were tinged a bit red even as she grinned as she stared at Hermione, who could feel her own cheeks rapidly heating up. “I have no clue if she even remembers telling me. She was... pretty drunk.”

“When was this?” Hermione frowned, trying to place a day Bellatrix could have had time to drink so heavily. None were really coming to mind, though she admittedly hadn’t been around Bellatrix as much recently, and for all she knew the girl could have found any time after school or on the weekend to drink with friends.

“After one of your practices.” Hermione could guess which one; a few days prior she had found Rodolphus waiting at the end of practice, an uncommon sight, and Bellatrix had said nothing to anyone before she followed him away from the field and towards the forest. At least it would have been the drunken kiss, and not the one in the classroom, where the two of them had gotten so close to- “Really, Hermione, it’s gotten a bit painful to watch the two of you chase the other around like a pair of horny dogs.”

“Andromeda!”

“I’m just saying,” Andromeda laughed as she threw her hands up in mock surrender, before she quickly continued speaking. “Even if you don’t want anything to happen with Bella, I do think coming with us would be fun. We haven’t done anything together recently. So if won't do it for her, consider doing it for me, please?”

At that she stood, and told Hermione goodbye before heading back of the common room and leaving the seventh year with too many thoughts. At that she stood, and told Hermione goodbye before heading back of the common room and leaving the seventh year with too many possibilities.


	12. XII

Saying goodbye to Fatty had to be the hardest thing she had done since deciding to leave her friends behind and come to this timeline, harder still than facing Death Eaters at Hogsmeade. When Kettleburn announced that by the time the students returned from break, the Brownies would have been relocated to a new home to build their own burrows, Hermione struggled not to cry. When she had to finish the essay about Fatty and describe his tendencies (eat, sleep, cuddle Bella, scream at Hermione), she struggled not to cry. But none had been worse than in the very last class they had with the Brownie, when she tried to rub his head and hold the tears back.

The fat beast bit her thumb and would _not_ let go, to the point that Bellatrix had to grab him to get him to release her.

“I’m not going to miss you,” she had huffed, sticking her thumb in her mouth to staunch the bleeding. 

When she noticed Bellatrix tracking the movement with darkened eyes, she let her hand fall from her mouth as she blushed deeply.

The two of them had been... fine since their kiss the day before. Perfectly normal, if only slight more teasing from Bellatrix. The girl didn’t even make a single comment about Hermione ending things before they went too far, or how she had walked out without a word. It was almost as if it had not happened at all, and for the life of her Hermione could not decide if she was grateful or annoyed over it, which led her to doing even more thinking than she already did most days.

Okay, Hermione had never denied finding Bellatrix attractive. It would be absolutely preposterous to even think of much, what with her muscles, and her pale skin, and her dark eyes, dark hair, even darker attitude. But even going beyond physical, there were aspects of Bellatrix’s that just couldn’t be ignored. In classes, she challenged Hermione in ways she had never been challenged before, she was wickedly skilled in Quidditch, and she could be nice and caring when she wanted to.

Even if she was typically an annoying brat the majority of the time, it was a characteristic Hermione had come to enjoy as well.

And they’ve kissed.

Twice now, once sober. Hermione had been thinking about it for a while now, of how close she had come to letting whatever was meant to happen happen, and craving more of Bellatrix’s touch. It had come so close to becoming so terribly complicated, and Hermione had been willing to risk it all.

More than anything she wanted to know what Bellatrix thought of it all, though knowing the girl she doubted she would receive any sort of straight answer. Bellatrix was infamous for sharing no details about herself, especially those concerned with emotion. 

She doubted she’d get any sort of information soon, and so she resorted to packing her meager belongings into a truck Dumbledore had given her. It wasn’t much, more books than clothing, though she did make sure to carefully grab the Time Turner from where she had hidden it at the trunk at the base of her bed, wrapped in a cloth all the way at the bottom, to be tucked in her travel case. 

Amelia and Lilith entered the room as she was packing, both girls giving her tight hugs and exclaiming they would miss her dearly. Lilith was joining Amelia and her family for a trip to Spain for the two week break, and both of them had been gushing about it for the last few nights. When they asked what Hermione was doing, and she confessed to spending the time with Bellatrix and her family, the girls got oddly quiet before wishing her good luck, and that they hoped she had a pleasant time.

It got to the time they were all required to head to the courtyard to begin making their way to the Hogwarts Express, and Hermione walked alongside her two friends the whole way. She saw the three Black sisters walking a little ways ahead together, and when they exited the Thestral carriages and walked up the platform, Hermione bid Amelia and Lilith goodbye as she walked to stand beside Bellatrix. 

Just standing next to the girl had every single hair standing on edge, and her mouth felt suddenly dry, but Hermione forced herself to swallow as she said her hellos to all of them, and together the four of them found an empty compartment to claim as their own. 

Hermione took the seat next to Narcissa, across from Bellatrix and Andromeda. She didn’t think she could survive multiple hours sitting next to the eldest Black right now, not with everything still so heavily on her mind. So she settled down with a book, and resolved herself to sit through the next few hours listening to Andromeda and Bellatrix bicker, as apparently the younger girl had eaten the last of Bellatrix’s Honeyduke’s chocolate, and she was refusing to forgive this ‘betrayal’. It was so terribly mundane, Hermione couldn’t help but grin as she listened to them go back and forth, appreciating the simplicity of the moment. In too short amount of days, it would all change, one way or another, and she would take all she could of these moments. 

When the train ride was nearly over, Hermione’s book finished and the last hour spent listening to Andromeda rant about her Ancient Runes exam, Bellatrix’s carry-on bag, which had been sitting in the corner beside her, moved on its own. 

“Bella...” Narcissa started off slowly, her eyes on the now wiggling black bag. The hesitant way the blonde said her sister’s name garnered both Hermione and Andromeda’s attention, and they stared curiously as well. “Why is your bag moving?”

“Why does it matter, Cissy?” Bellatrix sounded cheeky as she responded, pulling the bag closer to her side, which in turn caused whatever was inside to make a disgruntled whine.

A whine that Hermione knew very well.

“Is that- Bella- do you have _Fatty_ in that bag?” Hermione’s eyes were wide as the creature whines again, and it was all the confirmation she needed.

Bellatrix had absolutely shoved the Brownie into her bag. How she managed to sneak into the shed, get Fatty to cooperate and get in the bag, and then smuggle him onto the train was beyond her.

“What’s it to you?” Bellatrix huffed, crossing her arms and trying to nudge the bag with her thigh to get it to shut up, to no avail. Finally, with a loud sigh, she opened the sack and allowed the Brownie to slowly crawl out, sleepily blinking large eyes around the room. After he took the time to take everything in, Fatty crawled onto Bellatrix’s lap, curling his long limbs around himself and staring up at her. “So maybe I did bring him back with me. So what.”

“So- so what? Bellatrix! This is our assignment!” 

Bellatrix glared at Hermione, trailing one of her fingers lightly down the top of Fatty’s head and along his back. “Your point? I wanted him. He didn’t want me to leave either.”

Andromeda made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a cough to hide a laugh, and ignored the pointed look Narcissa sent her. As she was on Bellatrix’s side, she reached over to scratch the creature as well, and Hermione would not voice that watching Fatty move away from her touch made her feel slightly better. At least she was not the only one who Fatty did not tolerate.

“I cannot believe you, Bella! What is Kettleburn going to do when he discovers our Brownie is missing?” Hermione chastised, though she really should not be so surprised by Bellatrix’s actions. 

“Our assignment was to care for Fatty these past few weeks and write our essays. We did both, and will receive a fine grade for it. Nowhere did it say we would be affected by what happened to him _afterwards_ ,” Bellatrix huffed as she scratched at the underside of Fatty’s chin. 

At that point Andromeda did laugh out loud, and earned herself a kick in the shin by her youngest sister. Narcissa just rolled her eyes and watched as the lazy thing on Bellatrix’s lap rolled onto his back, letting his long arms and legs flop lifelessly around them. 

Hermione genuinely couldn’t think of a single thing to say to the insanity that was sitting before her, even if her heart soared at the sight of Bellatrix and Fatty laying together. 

Before long, the train rolled to a stop in the bustling station, and Bellatrix had to coax the Brownie to get back into the bag. Not that Hermione would voice it, but watching the increasingly frustrated girl try to get Fatty to go inside where he quite obviously did not wish to be, was a lovely sight. Bellatrix had to resort to slamming the bag upside down on the creature to capture him, Fatty screeching and whining the entire time, until she dropped some pieces of snacks in there to shut him up. When they were ready, all of them joined the flow of students to exit and find their families. 

King’s Cross was as crowded and chaotic as always when students were leaving or returning to the train, though this time Hermione hadn’t the slightest clue who they were looking for. Andromeda had said their parents wouldn’t be home until Christmas Eve, but did that extend to picking them up from the station? And if it did, then who would grab them in their parents stead?

One of the sisters must have caught sight of whoever they were looking for, as they all started to the left. A moment later, Hermione had her answer when she looked down to find a poorly dressed house elf waiting for them, as wide eyed and big eared as Dobby.

“Missus Bellatrix, Missus Andromeda, Missus Narcissa,” the elf greeted in her high pitched voice as she turned to look at Hermione. “Missues’ friend.” 

The sight made her uncomfortable, and she knew it would only worsen once she reached Black Manor, and saw how the elves lived. Dobby had been mistreated enough in Malfoy Manor, and their reputation had nothing on the volatile nature of the Black family. And Hermione had met the elves after the fall of Voldemort, when their lives had supposedly gotten better. If how they lived then was considered better, she was not prepared to see how the species currently lived. 

“Let’s go. I’m tired,” Bellatrix commanded as she slid her warm hand around Hermione’s bicep, her other hand grabbing onto Andromeda, who in turn grabbed Narcissa, holding hands with the elf. Fatty was partially hanging out of the bag, very pleased to take in the sights, sounds, and smells of the crowded station. 

Hermione had just enough time to process her skin tingling at Bellatrix’s touch before the sickening feeling of disapparating overtook her. Luckily for her stomach, it lasted only a few moments before they touched level ground once more, and she could take in their new surroundings. 

Hermione assumed Black Manor would be similar to Grimmauld Place; dark, suffocating, poorly decorated. Maybe another town home hidden in plain sight.

The large building before her was none of those things. Situated on an enormous plot of private land, acres upon acres of fields and trees separating them from any other neighbors, Hermione couldn’t help but lose her breath at the sight of the manor. It rivaled Malfoy Manor in size, with similar architecture, though this house was made more of pale stone intermingled with black shingles and brown brick to break up the monotony. Flowers upon flowers marked the walkway from the apparition point to the front door, and Hermione turned to look at the closed wrought iron gate behind them. Even backwards, there was no mistaking the crest split in half in the center of the gate, the words written above it: _Toujurs Pur_. The Black family motto, curled around the symbol of the ancient household.

The three sisters were not interested in examining the landscaping of the house they’d spent years in, and so they all quickly followed the silent elf up the drive and to the double doors, which slid open immediately and without any sort of noise.

If Hermione was surprised by the outside of the home, it had nothing on the inside. Unlike it’s namesake, there was nothing _black_ about the design. The floors were made of white marble so expertly polished Hermione could see her reflection staring back at her. The walls were white as well, the stark lack of coloring broken up by rows of artwork, some bright and elegant, others dark and cruel.

There was so much to take in, Hermione wasn’t sure where to start.

The elf silently disappeared before she could thank him, most likely off to make lunch for all of them, and so Hermione allowed Andromeda to give her a tour of the manor for the time being. Each room was more impressive than the last, and Andromeda pointed out her room, Narcissa’s, and Bellatrix’s all on the same floor, as well as Hermione’s room while she was here, only a hallway away from Bellatrix’s. 

The only section she did not see was the east wing, which apparently was reserved entirely for their parents, and none of them were welcome over there unless given express permission by Cygnus. Hermione couldn’t even fathom not being able to enter her parents’ room as a child, after she had a nightmare or was sick, or just wanted to lay between them. 

What was their childhood like? Andromeda had mentioned summers with Sirius and Regulus, but nothing else, and those had ended when Bellatrix first went to Hogwarts. Cygnus and Druella would not have been loving parents, would not have coddled their children, but did they see them as anything other than property to be married off to the highest bidder when they came of age? 

None of them had ever mentioned marriage proposals, but Bellatrix would one day marry Rodolphus, Narcissa would marry Lucius, and Hermione knew Andromeda would have experienced the same fate had she not ran away with Ted. And Hermione couldn’t blame her, not in the slightest. Andromeda saw her opportunity to escape this world with the man she loved, who wouldn’t do the same? 

“You’re staring hard at the wall, Potter,” Andromeda teased, knocking her shoulder into Hermione’s. “Come on, I’ll show you around the outside too. Might as well.” 

* * *

There was a surprising lack of things to do in the manor, Hermione came to find out. The siblings didn’t leave the grounds, though if that was out of personal choice or demand of their parents, she did not know. Narcissa spent much of her time in the library, during which Hermione joined her frequently, though they spent more time than not ignoring the other in favor of peacefully reading their books. The manor’s library rivaled that of Hogwarts in terms of size, with books on more topics than Hermione could wrap her head around. More than once she had walked passed a section that was quite visibly about the dark arts, and had to restrain herself from opening one of them. The last thing she needed was to get tangled in learning forbidden magic, when she was trying to get Bella away from that path.

As for the eldest and middle Blacks, Hermione spent more time with Andromeda than anyone else, unless she was in the library with Narcissa. Andromeda, in such a similar manner to Bellatrix, did not like to stay idle. Most of their time together was spent walking the spacious grounds, and venturing farther and farther into the woods on the property with each trip out. There was supposedly nothing dangerous here like at school, though Hermione remained on edge for _something_ to pop out.

It was on the third day of their two week vacation where Hermione found herself on a similar walk, dressed in a pair of Andromeda’s black pants and purple sweater, her hands tucked into the sleeves to keep them warm from cold afternoon air. Andromeda was a few paces ahead, kicking a rock every few steps as they walked.

“I can’t imagine growing up here,” Hermione commented, looking around at the trees and shrubbery. They were so deep into the forest they could no longer see the mansion, the sky obscured in some parts by the thick leaves above them, but still providing enough light to not need magic to guide their way. 

It was a beautiful sight, as everything about this place was beautiful. But still, her statement stayed true as she kept looking around. It might be beautiful, but the house, the land, everything... it lacked warmth. And not the temperature kind, but the kind that would have let Hermione fully relax here, would have made her feel welcome and at home.

The Weasley’s was a place of love and happiness, and here it just felt hollow, as if no happiness or goodness had ever existed here.

“There were as many benefits to growing up here as there were negatives,” Andromeda confessed, and kicked the rock harder than she had before, watching it go soaring through the air before it became lost somewhere in a bush. “Ted has told me about growing up in that world, in the muggle world, and I try to picture it, but honestly, it’s all so mind blowing.” 

Hermione pictured her own childhood, of Sunday mornings helping her father in the kitchen, afternoons in the garden with her mother, occasionally tagging along to their dentistry practice. Though she was still yet to meet Cygnus and Druella, she could not picture either of them being the sort of just hang out with their children without proper reasoning. Still, if only to lighten her friend’s unusually and uncharacteristic low tone, she teased, “Growing up with no magic?” 

It didn’t help. The fifth year just stared hard at a spot on the nearest tree and said, “Growing up with parents that love you unconditionally.” 

“Andromeda-” 

“You’ll see when they come back for Bella’s birthday. Then you’ll understand what I mean.”

While her heart ached for her friend, and she did not doubt that she would very well understand how the patriarch of the Black family raised his children, Hermione couldn’t help but latch onto the other part of Andromeda’s statement. “Bella’s _birthday_?”

“Her seventeenth,” Andromeda gave a mocking laugh, the sound so much colder than anything Hermione had heard from her friend before. “She’ll finally be matured, and then-” she cut herself off with a shrug, as if it didn’t matter, picking up the pace slightly. 

“What day is her birthday?” Hermione rushed to catch up, even as pieces were starting to fall together.

“Christmas Eve. It’s why our parents are coming back from their trip then, and not the 25th. They’re throwing a party.”

Dumbledore had told her that Bellatrix’s path would be sealed come Christmas, but what if he had meant the day before? It might very well be nothing, and could just be a simple party to celebrate a witch’s most important birthday, but Bellatrix’s parents didn’t seem the type to care about that sort of thing. But a party in honor of their child swearing her allegiance to the Dark Lord? That seemed to be much more fitting. 

She wouldn’t know, not for sure, and she could just be ruining her friend’s birthday party, but something in Hermione’s gut was telling her she could not allow Bellatrix to join the party.

Andromeda was in a much less exploratory mood following her confession, and they quickly returned to the mansion. Andromeda was quick to head in another direction, while Hermione sought out the eldest of the siblings, figuring her best start would be in Bellatrix’s bedroom.

She was correct, and found the door opened, so she stood in the doorway of the room and took it all in. Like everything else in the house, the floor was white marble, partially covered in dark rugs, but otherwise just as clear and shiny. It lacked any sort of personalization save for a Quidditch broom mounted onto the wall above the dresser, and a frame magic photo of her and her sisters on the small table beside the four poster bed. Unless someone specifically knew a teenage girl lived in here, it would be impossible to tell.

Bellatrix was currently on the bed, one leg stretched out and the other bent upwards to hold the book resting on it. Hermione recognized it as the Transfiguration assignment they’d been ordered to complete over the break, and from the looks of the half full parchment beside her, Bellatrix had been working on it for some time.

And there was Fatty, his round body and long limbs stretched as far as possible on one of the pillows beside Bellatrix’s head, snoring loudly. He had proven to enjoy Black Manor very much, as he had the freedom to run wherever his fat body would carry him, and had taken to terrorizing the elves over the past three days. Hermione had found out Bellatrix demanded the elves not apparate away from the creature, and as such had resorted to running whenever the hulking beast came charging. 

“Are you going to say something, or just continue to stare at me, Potter?” Bellatrix asked without looking up, pausing in her reading to scribble a line on the parchment. “I’m aware you found me breathtakingly attractive, but even you have to admit staring is a bit obsessive, hm?” 

Hermione couldn’t help the blush that overtook her cheeks at that statement, even as she stepped into the spacious bedroom. Ever since their kiss after Slughorn’s party, Bellatrix had been... different. More... flirty, if Hermione dared to say. And found it infinitely more amusing to tease Hermione about it all, though thankfully it had occurred only when the two of them were alone. She didn’t need Andromeda hearing the teasing and think any further into it. It was embarrassing enough for the girl to know about her and Bellatrix’s drunken kiss, she didn’t need to know about how much worse it nearly became.

“Odd that I’ve never once said those words. If you’re done inflating your own ego, Andromeda told me your birthday is Christmas Eve?” Hermione moved until she was at the foot of the bed, but made no attempt to sit on it. If oceans and desks were dangerous enough for the two of them alone together, she couldn’t begin to imagine what a bed would entail. 

All sort of humor dropped from Bellatrix’s face, and though her attention remained on the open text, Hermione did not miss how her grip tightened on the pages. “I have no interest in my birthday.”

“You’ll be seventeen,” Hermione pressed, thinking back to all of their seventeenth birthdays, and how it couldn’t come at any better time than when they’d need their magic at all times to protect themselves. “You’ll be able to practice magic whenever you like. You could get your Apparition license.” 

“I would say I wish to be as naive as you, Potter, to believe that turning seventeen is anything less than a damnation.” With a growl Bellatrix tossed the book violently onto her bed, the action vibrating Fatty enough that he cracked one eye open, found Hermione in the room, and rolled to face the opposite direction. 

Hermione had a feeling she was quite right in thinking the party on Christmas Eve would not be an average celebration. 

“What is going to happen on your birthday, Bellatrix?” 

“It’s none of your business.” Bellatrix’s voice was hard, close to threatening, but Hermione had not faced her head on for so many weeks to back down now, even as the older girl shoved herself off of the bed and moved to stand closely to Hermione, both of their hands balled into fists. “It is not possibly something you could wrap your head around. So do not bother.” 

“Bella-”

“I would recommend you change the subject or get out of my room.” A deathly low threat as Bellatrix clenched her teeth. 

As much as Hermione sometimes enjoyed a good back and forth with the girl, she knew now was not the time. She nodded her acceptance, but found she did not want to stop being around Bellatrix, so she said, “How about some Quidditch?” 

It wasn’t a stretch to figure the Blacks would have a few spare brooms around the house. Bellatrix didn’t quite shake her low mood, but it did marginally improve when both of them were able to convince Andromeda and even Narcissa to join them for a two versus two match. An argument between all four of them did break out when Bellatrix tried to split the teams to be her and Hermione against Narcissa and Andromeda, with both younger girls insisting that was not fair. 

In the end, Hermione was paired with Andromeda, and faced off against Bellatrix and Narcissa. 

And learned very, very quickly how unfortunate it was for the other three houses to have to face Bellatrix on the field every game. She was merciless in her attacks against Hermione, very nearly knocking her from her broom often, and overly defensive of Narcissa, who proved to be decent at the game as well. 

They didn’t have their own snitch, and Narcissa claimed to be in no mood to dodge bludgers, so they raced back and forth with Quaffles, trying to steal the ball from one another and toss it into their makeshift goals. 

Andromeda was... not very good. 

She was terrible at keeping the ball in their possession, even worse at stealing it back from one of her sisters, and crashed into Hermione more than she did the others. Sooner than Hermione had watched in any real game, Bellatrix and Narcissa were up by one hundred, whereas Hermione had only managed to score three goals herself, with Andromeda contributing nothing. 

“I hate this game,” the fifth year huffed when Narcissa called for a time out, if only just so they could all catch their breath. “And Bella hits hard, the damned witch.” She rubbed a spot on her shoulder Bellatrix had slammed into, and scowled at her cocky sister a few feet away. 

Hermione had to agree, she hadn’t imagined when suggesting they played it would go like this. It had been a sudden thought she had voiced to distract Bella, to get her to smile even once, and it had worked, as Bellatrix grinned wickedly at them, whispering something in her youngest sister’s ear that had her nodding seriously. Whatever it was, would not be good for Hermione and Andromeda. 

She was right, of course, when the game resumed Narcissa flew right at her, and in a fast movement gripped the tip of Hermione’s broom. 

Her eyes widened as she scrambled for a better grip. “Don’t you dare- _NARCISSA_!” Too late, the third year had jerked the broom upwards, and Hermione fell backwards, her hands slipping until she eventually completely tumbled off of the broom. 

That landing would hurt, and Hermione instinctively tensed up to prepare herself for slamming into the hardened winter ground, only to instead feel the strong grip of muscled arms around her shoulders, jerking her backwards onto another broom. 

She didn’t need to look beside her to know who it was, nor did she need to hear that tell tale husky chuckle in her ear that had her stomach rolling and tightening. Hermione spun around to roughly whack Bellatrix’s shoulder, scowling at her and Narcissa, and even Andromeda who was laughing along with them. 

“You guys had already lost the game,” Bellatrix said as if that was explanation for why they decided to terrorize her like that. “Cissy and I were bored.” 

“You’re both _mental_ ,” Hermione gasped, her heart still beating much too quickly even as a smile threatened to overtake her features. “Put me on the ground now, Black.” 

“As you wish, Potter.” Bellatrix gave one of those lopsided grins that had Hermione’s heart stuttering for an entire different reason, and lowered her to the ground, both of them hopping off of the broom as Hermione walked to grab her’s where it had fallen. She felt the sensation of eyes trailing her movements and held back another smile. 

* * *

The good mood from the Quidditch match two days ago only lasted until the morning of the 24th, before everyone shifted to being on edge. By the time any of them left their rooms, bathed and dressed for the day, the house elves had long since been up preparing the house for the party that night. There was an uncomfortable sense of urgency in their movements, each placement of a vase or table needing to be absolutely perfect. Hermione would have assumed it was the elves habit, a fear of having to harm themselves should they get something wrong, if she hadn’t seen Narcissa fix her dress three times in less than an hour, double checking her shoes and hair and socks- anything visible, really. Andromeda and Bellatrix were less obsessive, but Hermione had known them both long enough to know they stressed as well as they all waited for Cygnus and Druella to arrive. 

And when they finally did so, when the two of them apparated right before the gates, Hermione was able to watch them walk up the driveway through one of the large windows. Most of their features were blurred by the distance, but she could still make out Cygnus’ broad shoulders and tall frame, his black suit similar to what Draco would wear. Each step he took was purposeful, a man of muscle and power. 

She took in Druella next, drastically smaller next to her husband. She had her youngest daughter’s light blonde hair, and was as petite and delicate looking as they came, even dressed in such a full, black dress that trailed on the ground behind her. 

Bellatrix was beside Hermione by the window, her gaze hard and her face impossible to read, but the brunette did not miss how tensed the girl’s shoulders were, how part of her lip was sucked into her mouth. When she spoke, she didn’t look at Hermione, her attention locked onto her parents. “Only speak if they ask you a direct question. Otherwise keep your mouth shut.” 

Perhaps she should have asked it earlier, but- “Your parents are aware I have been here for the last few days, yes?” 

The dark witch’s lack of answer was not comforting, but there was no time to press it as the double doors to the manor magically opened once more, and then Cygnus and Druella were before them all. 

Up close, she could see the striking resemblance the children shared with their parents. Had Andromeda’s hair been slightly darker, she would have been the spitting imagine of their father along with Bellatrix, whereas Narcissa might as well have been a carbon copy of their mother. 

No one moved to greet the other, and Cygnus stopped before Bellatrix, his full mouth pulled into a scowl as he looked at his eldest. “Get to my office, Bellatrix. You and I have much to discuss.” He did not look at or acknowledge his other two children as he turned on his heels and stalked away, not bothering to look back to know that Bellatrix was following behind him. 

“Hello, mother,” Narcissa said once the sound of a door slamming closed reached their ears. Hermione realized she had hardly been breathing the entire time, and just kept looking between Druella and the place where Bellatrix had disappeared with Cygnus. That had to be the most lackluster greeting of all time, especially for parents who had not seen their children outside of Hogwarts since September. 

Hermione knew Bellatrix had been seeing their father throughout the school year, but did not know if that included Andromeda and Narcissa, or their mother. But for him to not even say hello to the others before leaving? And for Bellatrix to obey so quietly, so out of character. 

“And you may be?” Druella’s voice was honeyed sweet and Hermione was instantly on edge. She had heard that sort of tone too many times from Bellatrix over the months before they became anything close to friends to trust it. 

In a completely unexpected occurrence, Narcissa was the one to speak up, and said with a faked sweetness Hermione never would have thought possible from the stoic blonde, “My friend Hermione. I owled you about her before we left school.” 

Well that was... something. 

Andromeda had yet to speak up or even be addressed by her mother. 

“Of course,” Druella replied levelly and finally turned to look at Hermione. “Welcome to Black Manor.” It was dry, and made Hermione never want to talk to the woman again. It was worse than having to hold a conversation with Professor Snape, and the woman was so cold it was like looking into a mirror of meeting Narcissa for the first time as a fourth year during the Quidditch World Cup. 

Finally, _finally_ , Druella looked to her middle child, except when she spoke next it was not in English, but in French. The language was beyond Hermione, but the tone was easy enough to understand- Druella was not pleased over something concerning Andromeda. When Andromeda spoke back in perfect French, Hermione did have to admit to being surprised. She was unaware any of them spoke another language, least of all French. 

“Let’s go to the library,” Narcissa said when Druella’s voice rose in volume, and Andromeda’s arms crossed. Whatever was being said was not a pleasant conversation. It made Hermione wonder what the conversation currently taking place in Cygnus’ office was like. 

Their time in the library was tensed, Hermione unable to concentrate on the book she was in the middle of reading for the last few days. Eventually, she couldn’t help but ask, “What was your mother saying to Andromeda?” 

Narcissa took so long to respond that Hermione was starting to think she would not get an answer at all, and perhaps she had overstepped, seeing as if Druella wanted her to know what was being said she would have spoken English. But, she did respond, saying, “My mother and Andromeda do not see eye to eye on much of anything. She was not pleased with Andromeda’s outfit of choice.” 

Druella was not pleased with Andromeda’s outfit? Hermione thought back to it. The girl had been dressed in expensive black pants and a black shirt, both clearly of fine make, and nothing about it stood out as being improper. 

“My mother finds anything to argue with over Andromeda,” Narcissa supplied at the confused look on Hermione’s face. And Andromeda, who had never backed down from an argument with Bellatrix, most likely would not be one to keep her mouth shut to their mother either. 

No matter how much it was bothering her, Hermione couldn’t find the strength to question what sort of matters Cygnus and Bellatrix were discussing in his office. After a too long passing of time, with Hermione nearly finishing the thick book she started at the beginning of the break, an elf popped soundlessly into the room to announce that lunch had been served, and Cygnus and Druella were expecting them both to be in attendance. 

On the way to the dinning hall, Narcissa gave Hermione the same warning Bellatrix had earlier: “Do not speak unless they ask you a direct question, Potter.” 

It did nothing to calm her nerves as they reached the overly large room, with a table that easily could have sat over twenty centered in it. Everyone else had already been seated, with Cygnus at the head of the table, Druella to his right, Bella to his left, and Andromeda next beside her sister. 

Thankfully, Narcissa took the spot beside their mother, so Hermione was able to sit next to Andromeda, farthest from either parent. As soon as both of them claimed their seats, the food instantly appeared on the empty plates, though no one moved to grab anything. Three elves popped up next, and served Cygnus, then Druella, then Bellatrix and her sisters. Hermione had to physically stop herself from saying could grab it herself. She didn’t have to ask to know Cygnus would not have taken kindly to that. 

The meal was a silent affair that had Hermione counting down the minutes until someone told her she could leave, and once she had cleaned her plate along with the others, she nearly breathed a sigh of relief at being able to escape the stifling atmosphere. That was, until Cygnus spoke. 

“The guests for Bellatrix’s party will be arriving at seven. You will be dressed and ready to greet everyone at the door by quarter til then.” Cygnus’ voice was deep, his voice close to booming, while still holding a slight aristocratic tone similar to Narcissa’s. “Andromeda, Narcissa, the two of you and your guest will be back in your rooms at eleven. Not a minute later. We will see you in the morning.” 

Andromeda and Narcissa voiced their quiet agreement, and he thankfully did not bother looking in Hermione’s direction. She didn’t think she’d be able to fake an agreement, not when her mind was whirling to connect the dots. All of them minus Bellatrix were being sent to bed at eleven, which meant the party was not the event Hermione need to worry over, but it was what happened after. 

Would Voldemort be showing up then? Or a horde of Death Eaters? 

It didn’t matter, because Bellatrix would not be joining whatever vile festivities were set to take place. 

As soon as Cygnus had dismissed them, Andromeda did not hesitate to stalk from her table and back towards her room, while Bellatrix followed her father once more to his office, not even sparing a glance at Hermione. 

* * *

The elves had finished setting up the ball room for the event long before the first guests were set to arrive, and Hermione had remained pacing in her room for a long while. An elf appeared out of nowhere, this one different than the one who had picked them up at King’s Cross, with an elegant black dress, the bodice more lace, until the waist where it shifted to a comfortable looking silk that would cover the black heels the elf had floating behind him. He placed the outfit on her bed and flattened out all wrinkles, setting the shoes directly underneath on the floor. 

“Missus Andromeda had Gipley bring Missus Hermione a dress.” The elf, Gipley, kept his eyes on the floor as he spoke. “Does Missus need help doing her hair?” 

“No, thank you,” Hermione forced out, not wanting anything of an elf subjected to slavery. “Thank you for bringing me a dress.” Gipley nodded, and began to bow before he would apparate away, but Hermione stopped him. “You saw Andromeda? Is she- how is she doing? Is she upset?” 

Gipley blinked overly large eyes at her as he tugged on one ear. “Missus Andromeda is preparing hers-self for the party.” 

Not an answer she wanted, but she thanked the elf once more as the elf bowed and disappeared, leaving Hermione to stare down at the attire. If things were to go sour tonight, a dress and heels were not ideal to duel in, but she did not think Cygnus or Druella would tolerate her appearing in jeans or sneakers either, and she couldn’t risk giving them any inclination she was concerned about what would happen tonight. 

Dress and heels it is.

An hour later, when it was close to when the party would began, Hermione had finished with her hair, and had resorted to tucking her wand down her chest, as it was the only place to keep it secure in this idiotic outfit. But she was ready, and had a little bit of time to spare, so she decided it was time to enact the plan she had been silently thinking over ever since Andromeda told her of Bellatrix’s birthday and the party. 

It was a four step plan, with step one being the most dangerous and risky step, but if she could complete that, then hopefully steps two through four going off with any problems. 

Hermione left her room, walked down the long hall to the door at the end, and knocked firmly. A moment later, another elf opened, staring up at Hermione curiously, and moved aside to let her in. 

Bellatrix was on the edge of her bed doing up a pair of sharp heels, though she looked up at the sight of Hermione’s entrance. The brunette looked at the elf, thanked them, and asked for a moment alone. 

It had the darker haired girl eyeing her curiously, and yes, step one would definitely be the most nerve-wracking one to do. But Hermione could not lose her resolve, and knew this had to be done. Dumbledore wouldn’t have told her there was no going back from whatever occurred tonight if he wasn’t absolutely certain. 

“I know whatever is happening tonight isn’t a birthday party,” she forced out, before her brain could convince her she was being reckless. “I know when we go downstairs, something will happen that is going to solidify your allegiance to Lord Voldemort.” 

Bellatrix was standing in an instance, her legs not once wavering despite the quick movement in too tall heels, with her wand pointed directly at Hermione’s throat. It was a testament to the development of their relationship that Hermione did not immediately reach for her own, as she did not believe Bellatrix would blindly fire at her right now. 

No, she’d want to hear whatever Hermione had to say. And then decide if she was going to attack. That’s what would make step one possibly fatal, as if Hermione failed to convince Bellatrix to leave with her right now, she didn’t think this fight would go in her favor. 

“I don’t know where you got that information from, Potter, but you need to shut your fucking mouth right now if you know what’s good for you,” Bellatrix commanded, her wand never once wavering as she stared down Hermione. 

“I will explain everything to you, and how I can _promise_ you I can help you out of this, if you promise to listen to _everything_ I am about to tell you.” 

Bellatrix motioned for Hermione to walk away from the door, waving her wand towards the bed, and so Hermione slowly walked to it, keeping Bellatrix and the wand in her line of sight as the other girl quickly placed a silencing spell around the room, locking the door as well to keep anyone from entering. 

There was nothing of the girl catching her from falling when they played Quidditch, nothing of the girl on the train who snuggled with Fatty. “You better explain fast.” 

“I should start by saying my last name isn’t really Potter...” 


	13. XIII

_“I should start by saying my last name isn’t really Potter...”_

Bellatrix’s head cocked a fraction of an inch to the side, the only sign she would show that Hermione had her attention. But where did Hermione start? From the beginning? If so- what constituted the beginning in this twisted timeline? For _her_ , everything began when she was eleven, but they didn’t have time to discuss her hectic school history. Did she start when Bellatrix escaped from Azkaban, obsessed with a recently reanimated Voldemort and entirely insane? Still too long of a story. Did she only explain things starting from McGonagall’s request?

She was clearly taking too long to respond, because Bellatrix flicked her curved wand and snapped, “ _Who are you?_ ”

“My name is Hermione Granger,” she whispered, and closed her eyes as she dragged her fingers against the glamoured scar on her arm. “I’m muggle-born.”

“You’re a _fucking mudblood_?” 

Hermione must have picked something up from Bellatrix, as her movement was quicker than anything she had done before. She was on her feet with her own wand produced, her stance and hold identical to Bellatrix’s, both wands now at one another’s throat. “Do _not_ call me that word.”

“It’s what you are, you stupid fucking filthy-”

“ _SHUT UP!_ ” Hermione was thankful for the silencing spell Bellatrix had used, as someone would have for sure come running at the bellowed words. “Say that again, and I will attack,” she promised, her breathing ragged at the memories and the pain that slur brought up.

“I’d like to see you try. _You_ , who were so desperate to fit into our society you pretended to be a _Potter_.” Bellatrix rolled her eyes as she scoffed. “You should have picked a better family, though I suppose it is better to be a blood-traitor than to-” 

Hermione took stepped closer, and kept doing so, until both of their wands pressed into the pliant skin of their necks, digging in deep. “I will take us both out,” she threatened, pressing down with her wand harder for emphasis. 

Bellatrix gave a mocking grin and repeated the action, as if to call Hermione out on her blatant lie.

Fine then, if she didn’t want to do this the easy way (the fact that this was the easy way really said a lot about the life Hermione had been living), then they would do it the hard way, emotions be damned.

“If you go down there, and you do whatever it is Voldemort demanded of you, your life will never be the same,” she said, trying to gulp to reveal the pressure, to no avail. “You lose... everything. You never talk to Andromeda again, and you do not talk to Narcissa for fourteen years. You do not get to be there to watch either of them raise their children. Instead you will rot in Azkaban and lose all sense of sanity.”

“You’re a liar,” Bellatrix growled, her eyes wild, even as the wand tightened the skin against her neck and Hermione could quite easily see her racing heartbeat. “You’re just a filthy fucking liar. You deserve the killing curse for daring to speak to me at all. How dare you enter this sacred manor with your vile blood. You are undeserving to be a witch and-” 

Hermione should turn the killing curse on _her_ , that’s what she should do. Mentally cursing McGonagall once more for sending her on such a painful mission, she blurted out, if only to stop Bellatrix’s blasted ranting, “I’m from 1998. When you are in your forties, and about to storm Hogwarts at Voldemort’s side to kill us all.”

That, thank Merlin, managed to shut Bellatrix’s shrill and affronted screeching up for one moment. 

“You become one of, if not the, most feared Death Eaters over the next thirty years. You are Voldemort’s lieutenant, and you are going to go on and do... horrible, horrible things for him,” Hermione continued, struggling to keep her voice level and her anger in check as she reminded herself of all the horrors Bellatrix would bring to this world. 

Neville’s parents, Sirius, Dobby, countless others... 

“It is impossible to come so far back in time.” 

“I thought so as well. My professor had a spell to magnify a Time Turner’s power. We didn’t know if it would work, or if it did, we couldn’t be sure I’d be sent to the correct timeline. I didn’t know for sure until I met Andromeda that first night, and she talked about.” 

There was a heavy silence, and Hermione let her mind wander on if anyone had arrived yet. They were running out of time until Bellatrix would be expected to join her sisters and greet everyone who came for the party, and Hermione didn’t feel as if she’d made any progress right now. 

So Hermione tried a different approach. 

“Bella, please, I need you to trust me.” She would have run a hand through her hair had she not been afraid it would mess up the effort that went into fixing it to look more tamed. “I saved Andromeda that night in Hogsmeade, and I never said anything about- about your back, or when you came into the common room late and I healed your face. I have kept every secret I know about you, so please, trust me here. Trust that I am trying to change the future _and_ keep your family safe.” 

“Say I believe you,” Bellatrix began apprehensively, lowing her wand a fraction of an inch so it no longer dug into Hermione’s carotid. Hermione took a chance by doing the same with her own wand, moving it so it was now closer to the girl’s collarbone. “What is your goal for being in this timeline? To kill me?” 

“Why the hell would I have gone to all this trouble to befriend you if I wanted to kill you?” 

“You pulled your wand on me when we first met, you dueled me in the hall, you punched me in the face and knocked me to the ground in the Forbidden Forest. All of those do not point to you being a savior, now does it?” 

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath, if only to swallow down the urge to scream her annoyances. Bellatrix had antagonized all of those altercations, though it did not do much to convince the stupid witch of Hermione’s good intentions in this situation.

“You and I arguing over who started what is doing nothing for us. We have a very short timeline before your father gets furious you are not down there and comes looking for you, and this is not a conversation I want him overhearing.” Hermione couldn’t even begin to envision how Cygnus would react if he caught the two of them talking about such things, especially on tonight of all nights. Most likely he would kill her for having the audacity to say such things to his daughter, maybe he would even make a spectacle out of it, who knew? 

A soft knock sounded on the door, startling both of them enough that Hermione flinched and Bellatrix twisted so her wand and body were angled towards the door. The knob jingled, once, twice, and then they heard Andromeda’s voice, loud and annoyed even through the thick wood. 

“Bella! Open the door! I want those grey heels!” 

“Fuck off, Andy!” Bellatrix yelled back, rolling her eyes as if she couldn’t help it. They both heard Andromeda’s reply of ‘jackass!’ before she walked down the hall. Hermione couldn’t hold back the slight chuckle at the sisters interaction, which gained her Bellatrix’s attention once more, the two of them instantly sobering up. 

“I’m trying to help you, Bella, I swear it. In my timeline, not only are you alongside Voldemort, but Narcissa is on his side as well. Narcissa’s child is a Death Eater. Andromeda’s child is on Hogwarts side, which means at one point, someone in your family will face your niece in this war. Is that what you want?” 

Bellatrix’s look of heavy contemplation was response enough for Hermione, enough so that she stepped away from the girl and put her wand away. 

“If I get one inkling you are doing anything to betray me, or trying at all to hurt Andromeda or Narcissa, you are dead, do you hear me? You’ll be dead before you ever knew what happened,” Bellatrix threatened with a serious glare, finally lowering her wand completely to her side. “I am going along with this idiocy for the moment, so explain your plan quickly before I change my mind.” 

* * *

Hermione had made the trip from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts more times than she could count during the years at the school, but none felt longer than now, as she apparated into the small town and took off at a run towards the castle. Well, as much of a run as she could accomplish in heels, so it ended up being more of a wobbly jog that took up too much time. But she reached it eventually, every passing second feeling much too long, and burst through the doors into the empty hall, her only destination being Dumbledore’s office. It was after dinner now, so if he was not in there, she wasn’t sure where to go next. 

However, when she reached the gargoyle guarding the stairway to the headmaster’s office, she paused. How was she to get through without the password? It was similar enough to her first night in the castle in this timeline, when she had struggled to get through the gargoyle. Only then, Dumbledore had appeared behind her and ushered her up the stairs. She did not think she would get so lucky twice now. 

“It’s an emergency,” she tried, staring at the stone and silently pleading it would spin. “Please,” she said next when it failed to move. “It’s very important. I need to see Professor Dumbledore.” 

Not so much as a stone feather ruffled. 

Every minute counted now. Bella was on her side, but for how long? She didn’t want to risk leaving Bellatrix with her father and the others for too much longer. 

There was one last thing she could try, one shot in the dark to get a response here. Looking around quickly and finding the area completely deserted, she looked back at the statute and lowly said, “It’s Order of the Phoenix business.” 

At first, nothing happened, and Hermione was close to screaming out in frustration, but then the wings spread, the head moved upwards, and it spiraled upwards for the stairway. “ _Thank you_ ,” she said quickly as she raced up them, into the spacious and overly decorated office of Albus Dumbledore. 

The bearded man was at his desk as always, a stack of papers in hand and a plate of crumbs that looks very much like cake crumbs were beside him. He looked up at Hermione’s arrival, though his face did not reveal if he was surprised or not at her sudden appearance. “Miss Potter, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

They didn’t have time for pleasantries, not right now. Hermione threw herself down into the chair across from his desk, her hands splayed across the wood. “You told me I had until Christmas to stop Bella from joining Voldemort’s ranks,” she rushed out, her words too fast and nearly jumbled together. She sucked in a deep breath in a poor attempt to calm her racing her. “It was tonight. What was supposed to happen is happening tonight, not tomorrow.” 

“That is most troublesome,” Dumbledore replied, not looking troubled in the slightest. “I assume that, seeing as you are currently here, and not with Miss Black, you are seeking assistance?” 

There was no telling how far Dumbledore had gotten into securing the start of the Order of the Phoenix, nor did she know how many members he yet had. Or if they had any safe houses, but... but her and Bella’s entire plan relied on getting out of Black Manor, tonight, before eleven o’clock. 

“We need assistance from the Order,” she said firmly, and did not let her shoulders sag in relief when Dumbledore nodded in understanding. “I don’t- I have no idea if you have a headquarters, or anywhere safe set up yet, but...” she thought of Bella’s face, so incredibly furious as Hermione explained why she was here. “Bella will become a Death Eater if I can’t get her out of that house. And we need somewhere safe to go, somewhere her parents or Death Eaters can’t follow us.” 

Hogwarts was out of the question for the time being, not while it would be so easy for Cygnus to show up and take her back, either right to Voldemort and beg for forgiveness for his daughter’s actions, or home to dole out whatever punishment he saw fit. 

“I would ask for something in return,” Dumbledore said after a moment of uncomfortable silence. 

_As if we haven’t given enough to you_ , Hermione had no idea where the thought or the bitterness had come from, but she shoved it away and nodded. Whatever he asked of her in this moment, she would agree to. 

“Voldemort is rapidly gaining followers in a time we cannot afford for him to do so. Each day he grows in power. The Order is in its infancy, most likely nothing of the organization you know of your time. We need any information we can gather. Should I provide help, I require Miss Black to provide any information she has regarding either Voldemort himself, or about his followers.” 

“Deal,” Hermione said, not bothering to let herself think how much she would have to argue with Bellatrix about that. 

Dumbledore scribbled down something on a piece of paper. “Return to Black Manor, and at ten o’clock apparate to this address. The Order will be expecting the four of you.” 

She didn’t bother to question why he assumed Narcissa and Andromeda would be joining them, just thankful not to explain anything else as she quickly thanked him and moved to run back to Hogsmeade once more and disapparated to Black Manor. 

The party was in full swing by the time Hermione entered the ballroom, though it was much more mellow affair than what she was used to in the Wizarding World. There was a small ensemble of musicians in the corner, playing a somber sounding piece, and there were no dancers. The guest list was made up almost entirely of adults, and they all stood now in small groupings, talking to one another. More elves than Hermione thought possible ran from one group to another with food, drinks, and more food, while also taking away empty plates or glasses. More often than not, the wizards just threw their trash at whatever elf passed closest, and if the objects hit them, the group laughed. 

It made Hermione want to throw trash as them and laugh, but she held herself back and scanned the room again, searching for Bella and her sisters. 

Unfortunately, two of them were in the worst possible places. Bellatrix was beside her father, talking to a group of men in the far corner. Hermione couldn’t necessarily go up and ask for a moment of Bellatrix’s time when she was with Cygnus, and- 

One of the men in the group turned slightly to look around them, and Hermione caught the side of his profile. 

_“Gonna kill me now, girlie?”  
_

_“You better, otherwise I’m gonna come back for you for doing this to me.”_

Antonin Dolohov. 

She couldn’t let him see her, not now, not when she was so close to getting Bella out and away from them all. He would surely remember her face, remember the death promise he had sworn to her weeks ago, when he had been a part of the Death Eater group attacking Hogsmeade. If he saw her here, would he attack first, or would he inform Cygnus that his daughter’s new friend was anti-Voldemort? 

She couldn’t risk it. Bellatrix was to the left in the back, so Hermione went to the right, staying as far away from that group as possible. Narcissa was with their mother, off nearest to the musicians, talking in another cluster of pure-bloods, and she still couldn’t find Andromeda. 

“You’ll be staying for the main event, I hope?” A voice suddenly said from Hermione’s right, one that had her rolling her eyes and tensing up at the same time as she turned to look at Rodolphus. “The fun doesn’t start until much later.” 

“Bellatrix’s father has informed me I’ll be returning upstairs with Andromeda and Narcissa before then,” Hermione replied flatly, not bothering with having him believe she was interested in any sort of conversation, even if she was nervous about him being here. That was two people now who could tell Cygnus she fought against the Death Eaters, though she still didn’t think Rodolphus knew she was aware it was him and Rabastan who chased them through the forest. 

“How unfortunate. You and I could have had some fun once the entertainment arrives.” Rodolphus smiled at her then, all white teeth that was nothing less than threatening. “When I had a similar celebration, the end was by far my favorite part. Bella will love it, I’m sure. You know she’s quite... wild.” 

There was not a single part of Hermione that wanted to be around for whatever sort of sick celebration the Death Eaters were not concocting, nor did she want to think about how Rodolphus was inducted into Voldemort’s Inner Circle. 

“Have you seen Andromeda?” Hermione tried instead, once more searching the ballroom for a sign of her friend. “I’ve been hoping to talk to her.” 

“Am I not providing a stimulating enough conversation for you?” Rodolphus still had a smile in place, one that had probably worked on countless girls before her. It did nothing but send chills down her spine that she had to hold back from becoming visible. “You hurt me, Hermione, but Andy has just joined us.” He nodded his head in the direction of the double doors, his black hair swishing with the movement. 

She did not bother with any sort of pleasant goodbye before she walked off towards Andromeda, trying to seem as unhurried as possible as she approached the girl and grabbed her arm, gaining her attention immediately. 

“Hermione?” 

Step three was beginning now, as Hermione pulled Andromeda to a slightly more secluded area of the ballroom. 

“I have to tell you something, you need to not ask any questions, and just go along with everything. Bella knows it all, and I promise to explain more later. But I need you to listen and cooperate.” 

And then Hermione explained what she needed Andromeda to do, and what to expect come ten tonight. 

* * *

Andromeda and Narcissa were already waiting around the corner when Hermione appeared, bags in both girls hands and another two on the floor by their feet. They had been whispering quietly to one another, but looked up at Hermione’s arrival, quieting immediately.

“You have everything?” Hermione motioned to the bags, the multitude of clothes Andromeda was tasked with gathering. One bag wiggled in response to her voice. “Here’s hoping he stays quiet.” Though Andromeda had been the one to ask about the Brownie, Hermione wouldn’t have been able to leave him behind, not in this hellhole and not when Bellatrix was so attached to him. 

“Where’s Bella?” Narcissa asked, an uncharacteristically worried tone in her voice. “I didn’t see her when we were leaving.” 

“She’s with your father. She knows to find a way to excuse herself and come here.” All of that had been taken care of in step three. Not only was Andromeda tasked with gathering their belongings, but it was also on her to get a moment alone with both sisters to tell them the hastily made plan. Hermione didn’t trust their parents or guests to leave any of the Blacks alone with her long enough to explain it, so she had taken her opportunity to give a quick run down to Andromeda and entrust her to pass along the message. 

Footsteps echoed in the spacious hall, and all three of them turned expectantly, ready to grab one another the moment Bellatrix appeared, leave the house to the apparition spot, and go to the address Dumbledore had provided. Hermione had already tossed the paper into a fire once she had the location memorized.

“Hello, ladies,” Rodolphus said, hands in the pockets of his suit pants as he strolled, easily, without a care in the world up to them. He sent a pointed look to the bags at their feet. “I saw you all leaving just now. Going anywhere fun?” 

Hermione’s stomach would have clenched at being caught just by Rodolphus, but she knew should it have come down to it, they would have been able to win that fight. It would draw attention, and they’d just have to hope they’d be able to escape the manor before anyone else came to see what the commotion was. All of that would have been doable, had Rodolphus been alone.

But he wasn’t, and he turned to look at the man who had walked to a stop beside him, before looking back at Hermione. “As promised, Dolohov, the ‘bitch’ who nearly killed you.”

Antonin Dolohov’s mouth widened in a yellowed smile as he stared at Hermione. “Ain’t this a nice little reunion, missy? I been thinkin’ ‘bout you.”

Both men just laughed when Hermione brandished her wand, their own in their hands now as well. Andromeda and Narcissa’s were out, she could see from the corner of her eye, but they were underage, unable to practice magic without Ministry detection.

“Andy and Narcissa is off limits. Bella would kill us both if she knew we hurt the two of them,” Rodolphus said to Dolohov, who grunted in annoyance but conceded. Then they turned their attention to Andromeda, who had moved to stand slightly in front of her younger sister. “Get out of here, Andy, go find somewhere else to be and let us handle this. She’s a blood-traitor, you know? A loyalist to the weak minded, someone who wants to abolish our way of life.” 

Well, that was true.

This was going downhill very quickly, and Bellatrix was still nowhere to be found.

“Rod,” Andromeda tried, her voice just as smooth and confident as ever, despite the impending danger they now found themselves in. A skill she no doubt learned from Bellatrix. “Do you really think our father would allow us to be around blood-traitor? To bring one into our home?” The insult sound absurd coming from the girl dating a muggle-born. “Do you think _Bella_ would be friends with one?” 

“I think our beloved Bella has let a pretty face fool her.” Rodolphus shrugged, completely indifferent, and took one step closer, his smile ever present. “Bella is very distracted by you, Hermione, and it is doing nothing for our cause. No worries, after tonight you’ll be nothing but a memory for her anyway.” 

Where the _hell_ was Bellatrix? 

“Leave, Andy, I’m not telling you again.” Rodolphus’ voice was flat now, bordering on impatience and annoyance. “Your father is aware of Hermione’s stance as blood-traitor, but is willing to overlook your involvement on the basis of teenage girl naivety.” 

“Get out of here, Andromeda. Take Narcissa and run,” Hermione demanded, even as she knew being left alone with the two before them was little more than a death sentence. But she would do anything it took to keep at least the two of them safe for a little longer. 

She was willing to bet everything she had that Cygnus Black was most definitely not willing to overlook anything having to do with his daughters and a supposed blood-traitor. She once more thought of the scars on Bellatrix’s back, of the way he had so utterly dismissed Andromeda had nearly every opportunity. No, there was not a single doubt that Cygnus would be forgiven to his children about this mishap. Especially not when word reached him of their attempted escape.

“Lestrange, get this the fuck on,” Dolohov growled, his dark eyes wide with fury as he stared at Hermione. “I’ve been thinking of... all the ways to make you pay. Don’t worry, girlie, you’ll get some pleasure out of it too.” He wiggled his eyebrows even as Hermione took a hesitant step backwards, feeling Narcissa now brush against her side. 

There was not a single person in the ballroom Hermione could rely on helping them. Not a single person in this entire manor would would help them. Not-

Movement directly behind Rodolphus and Dolohov caught Hermione’s attention, though she gave no inclination she noticed anything, and could do nothing more than hope Andromeda and Narcissa would follow her lead. She let her wand shift from pointing at the middle of the Death Eaters to focus exclusively on Dolohov, who merely grinned at the action. Behind them, a curved wand mimic the movement to be trained on Rodolphus’ back.

A second later, Hermione yelled out, “ _STUPEFY_ ”, the spell echoed on the other side of the hall, twin beams of red light hitting the men as they dropped to the floor.

“ _Bella_!” Narcissa ran to her sister, who rushed to them immediately. “Are you-” 

“We need to go. Now.” Bellatrix’s dark eyes were locked to Hermione’s. “Our father knows something is going on. Grab the bags and let’s go.” 

Andromeda and Narcissa did as instructed, the older girl carefully picking up the bag holding Fatty, who had thankfully remained quiet and hidden during the entire encounter. Hermione grabbed her’s, and the four of them rushed down the hall towards the front doors, thankful with each passing moment that this part of the manor was not in use tonight as they reached the doors without any more interruptions. 

Something had happened with Bellatrix and her father, that much was obvious with how rushed and frazzled the girl moved, but now was not the time to ask what, not as they reached the apparation point and Hermione grabbed Andromeda while Bellatrix grabbed Narcissa. With a quiet ‘pop’ they disappeared and Hermione fought back the nausea at the sensation of being pulled, stretched, squished, and dragged in all directions before it just as abruptly ended. 

The address led them to a house that had seen better days. It was two levels, red bricks and brown shutters, though one of the windows on the second floor was missing a shutter, and another looked as if a rock had been thrown through it. The grass was brown, uncut for what had to be months, and the driveway was cracked with weeds poking through in some sections. Hermione was willing to bet it had been years since this house had last hosted a family, but still she walked up the crumbling pathway and knocked on the splintered door twice.

She didn’t have to wait long before it slid open on rickety hinges, and the four of them were quickly ushered inside, the door closing immediately after the last of them had entered.

Despite the less than appealing looks of the outside, the inside was a stark opposite, and could only be credited to magic. It looked brand new, hardly lived in save for the overcoat hanging on the wall by the door and a muddied pair of shoes below it. Other than that, the couch in the living room, the table in the dinning room, everything scream unused and thus unnecessary.

All of that paled in comparison to the man standing before them in the foyer.

Alastor Moody was not someone Hermione had been expecting to see. It was made more shocking by how young he was, and how normal he looked without any missing body parts. Both eyes and legs were still intact, and he stood before them in a grey shirt and black pants, no signature cane or overcoat to be seen. He couldn’t have been any older than his mid twenties, most likely just coming into himself as a skilled Auror, but would still be a considerable ally to have within the Order.

And he glared at them with a palpable annoyance, even as he held his wand in his hand, pointed directly at Hermione. Bellatrix had her’s out as well, aimed at Moody’s head and no look of hesitation in her eyes, even as Moody focused only on Hermione as he asked, “What is the first thing Albus Dumbledore said to you when you met him in October?”

“I met Professor Dumbledore in September, and he invited me into his office for a cup of tea,” Hermione replied easily, letting out a breath of relief as Moody lowered his wand, Bellatrix following a moment later. “Moody, I don’t know what Dumbledore has had a chance to tell you yet, but-” 

“You’re to stay here for the remainder of Hogwarts’ holiday, and then, assuming it safe for the four of you to do so, you will return for the second term. We don’t need to discus anything else right now. Tomorrow, I’ll be talking to that one about what she knows.” A nod to Bellatrix at that, and Hermione held her breath at the mocking laugh the girl gave, the only sign of her refusal. 

Oh, Hermione knew she’d be hearing about that soon, as she hadn’t yet had the opportunity to speak with Bellatrix about the asking price for coming to the Order’s headquarters.

“I think not,” Bellatrix responded, moving farther into the room and looking around for a second, before turning to look at her sisters. Utterly dismissing the rooms and Moody with the small action. “So, this is how the scraps live, hm?”

The house was not what Hermione would have considered ‘living like scraps’ but she supposed that, after seeing the enormous manor Bellatrix and her sisters had been raised in, this muggle home would be considered as much. But why did she have to go and voice that to Alastor Moody, who was visibly less than pleased at having them all here, least of all Bellatrix? 

“Thank you for allowing us to stay here,” Narcissa spoke up suddenly, not even so much as blinking when all of their gazes locked on her, especially under the annoyed glare of Moody and the furious look of her eldest sister. “I think it’s best if we just go to sleep. We’ve... had an exhausting night, and it’s riled my sister’s temper.” 

A strong breeze could rile her sister’s temper, it had nothing to do with their altercation with Rodolphus and Dolohov, though that was a conversation the four of them needed to have soon. Without Moody listening in. Hermione trusted him absolutely, but she’d rather settle things with her friends and decide what to do with the two Death Eaters knowing about them before involving anyone else.

Merlin, she was beginning to sound like Harry and Ron, trying to solve things themselves without the help of professors or Aurors, but... she was on thin ice with Bellatrix as it was right now, probably less so, and needed to handle things just between them to regain whatever sliver of trust she had with the girl before she confessed everything.

“We are very tired, Moody,” Hermione added when Moody failed to react, hoping he would just give in this once and send them on their way. 

He waved them all off, that annoyed look still in place as he turned his back and walked towards the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “There are two empty bedrooms just to the right of the stairs up there. Take them and don’t get into anything you have no right getting into it.” With that, he disappeared around the corner, leaving the four of them with their bags in the foyer.

One of the bags released a high pitched whine into the heavy silence, and Andromeda stared at it. “Should we tell him about-”

Collectively, the other three did not hesitate to reject that suggestion. Bellatrix picked up the wriggling bag along with the one with her clothes, and marched up the staircase, the others following a moment later. The second level was just a long hallway with multiple closed doors, and they all went towards the two side by side Moody had indicated, opening each of them. There was no special or unique about the rooms, both with two twin sized beds shoved into corners, two nightstands each, and one dresser. There was a lack of decoration or warmth in the rooms, and yet it was still much more welcoming than Black Manor.

“I will not be sharing a bedroom with the mudblood. The two of you can work out who will be staying with her,” Bellatrix announced before she marched into the room closest to the stairway and let the door slam shut behind her. 

Well... that isn’t how Hermione wanted to go about telling Narcissa and Andromeda.

“I guess we should talk,” she replied slowly, motioning to the other bedroom and guiding them in.

* * *

Hermione left the bedroom after she was finished speaking with Andromeda and Narcissa, feeling only slightly more relieved after their conversation. Andromeda had been the one to say they understood why Hermione did what she did, and she didn’t doubt they were telling the truth, but that did nothing to diminish the look of hurt in both of their eyes at being deceived for so long. 

She had explained everything she told Bellatrix earlier in the night, albeit in a much less aggressive and threatening manner, as all of their wands remained sheathed and they stayed sitting, their voices never raising. It did make Hermione feel a bit wrong to tell them what their sister would one day come to do, the fear and pain she would one day bring to so many others, but they needed to know, needed to understand why Hermione was doing what she was. 

In the end, Narcissa said she’d share with Bellatrix and left Hermione and Andromeda together. Now just the two of them, there was a distance Hermione had not been prepared for between them, an invisible weight that painfully separated them. She couldn’t take it, not now, but couldn’t find the words she wanted to say to bring her and Andromeda back to where they were before. It had only been days since the younger girl was confessing she knew a bit about Hermione and Bellatrix, had teased her about it, and then was mocked for sucking at Quidditch it, but those events all felt hollow and so far away right now, as Hermione stared at her friend curled up on the opposite bed, staring out the window into the darkened street. 

Unable to stand the silence between them any longer, she set out to find Bellatrix, to hopefully have a conversation that didn’t result in death threats or screaming, but she was not in her room, so Hermione went downstairs, careful to not disturb Moody in his room, as it was after midnight and she assumed he would be in bed by now. Down the stairs, she found Bellatrix in the living room, reclined on the sofa and looking at the unused fireplace. Fatty was stretched out on the space beside her, one long arm hanging off and nearly brushing the floor now. 

“What I don’t understand,” Bellatrix began once Hermione entered her line of sight, not giving her the chance to speak first. “Is why you?” 

“Why me?” Hermione frowned, choosing to sit in the recliner farthest from Bellatrix, just in case this did turn violent. 

“You said you’re from nearly thirty years in the future, and I am in my forties. So why would your people pick a seventeen year old girl to persuade me, when I assume you and I would have very little connection.” Bellatrix kept her eyes on the wall, her eyebrows furrowed as she concentrated. “What makes you so _special_ , they would send you back for what is such an _important_ mission?” 

Because Harry can’t be risked, because Ron would never give Bellatrix the time of day. There were so many reasons McGonagall had for picking her, she supposed, and the longer she stayed here the longer she feared she’d never hear from the woman on why she was so firm in her decision it be Hermione. Of course, she couldn’t explain anything of the impatiently waiting witch, so she said, “In my time, we are out of chances to delay this any longer. A war is about to happen, right on Hogwarts’ grounds, and we need every minuscule bit of hope we can muster right now. My professor sent me, because she assumed I would be able to remain focused on my goal of getting you to join our side.”

“Now tell me, did your professor tell you that being desperate to have sex with me was the best chance you had of getting me on your side, or was that for your own selfish desires?” 

She should have prepared herself for that possibility, for Bellatrix to use what had happened between them as ammunition to further their fight. She should have seen it coming, but just because she should have doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt to hurt, doesn’t mean she didn’t flinch as the accusation left Bellatrix’s mouth. 

“Those have- it isn’t- Bella-” 

“Don’t call me that,” Bellatrix snapped, standing up quickly enough that she disturbed Fatty, who squeaked in annoyance. The noise went ignored by both of them as Hermione stood too, just to be safe. “Let’s not pretend I am here for any reason other than protecting my sister. This is a last resort for me, do you understand? I am not here because we are friends or _whatever_ you think we are, I am not here for anything due to _you_. If you are saying Dumbledore and that prick of a man upstairs can protect my sisters from everything, that is why I am here. Let me be clear by saying it has nothing to do with you, and I regret _everything_ that has happened prior to now.”

Tears pricked Hermione’s eyes, unwanted and entirely embarrassing, but she couldn’t move fast enough to wipe them away before they streaked down her cheeks. Bellatrix noticed immediately, and scoffed at the sight. 

“You’re so fucking weak. Your professor sent here for the sole reason of you being expendable. Whatever the hell you were doing for your side was obviously not important enough to justify continuing. You were sent back thirty fucking years, Hermione. Who has done that before? Your professor knew you very well could have died, and they didn’t care. No one cares about you. Not in my time, and not in yours.” 

There was nothing to say here, no argument to be had, no more reasoning she could give for her actions. Bellatrix’s mind was made, and there would be no changing that. Hermione would get no further in this, not while tears continued to flow freely down her face and not while Bellatrix was relishing in the sight. She said nothing more as she turned and walked back upstairs, not bothering to say anything to Andromeda before she dropped onto the bed, turned to the wall, and didn’t attempt to fight the tears any longer. 


	14. XIV

Hermione woke up on Christmas morning to the sound of screaming.

Loud, high pitched, distorted screaming. It was words, that much she was sure, but too fast and too shrill for Hermione to make it out from the bedroom and whatever location the screaming was happening in.

And it was definitely Bellatrix. While Andromeda was not above screaming, this sort of teeth clenching irrational ruckus would not come from her. Narcissa was much too mighty to reduce herself to such noises, so it would only be Bellatrix. But who was she screaming at? Andromeda was a possibility, Narcissa not likely, but... but they were not the only ones in the house. It was that thought that had her kicking the covers aside and standing from the bed, even as her head ached from crying all night and seeing Bellatrix right now was the last thing on this Earth she wanted.

Hermione didn’t think she had ever cried that hard in her life than she did last night. Andromeda hadn’t questioned her, had given her a moment after storming into their shared room and throwing herself onto the bed before she came to Hermione’s side and sat on the bed. For over an hour. Never saying a word. Just... sitting there.

It had worked to comfort Hermione slightly, but it would do nothing to have her mind stop repeating the words Bellatrix had yelled at her last night. Nothing would stop those words from rotating around and around and around all night, until she had finally cried herself to sleep.

And now, Hermione slowly walked down the stairs, the more she moved the more conscious she became and was able to understand the words being yelled. She had been correct it was Bellatrix doing the screaming, but another voice occasionally rose to be overheard, this one male and only belonging to one person.

Hermione was still rubbing sleep from her eyes when she walked into the living room, and didn’t attempt to hold back the sigh at the sight waiting for her. Andromeda and Narcissa were both seated on the couch, both watching as Bellatrix and Moody, standing in the center of the room, yelled at one another.

“I didn’t make any sort of promises to you or to Dumbledore!” Bellatrix yelled, her voice close to hoarse from the shrill way she had been screaming for some time now. “If you have an issue with that, take it up with the bitch upstairs!”

The bitch upstairs, who was now leaning against the archway into the living room, still unnoticed by them all save Moody.

What a fun Christmas morning.

Not that she was feeling very festive. She hadn’t been feeling festive all break, now that she thought about it. She had credited it to staying in Black Manor, where the was not a single indication Christmas was coming anywhere in the house, even during Bellatrix’s sham of a birthday party. Even now, out of that stifling atmosphere and into a relatively safe house, there was not a hint of holidays. She expected nothing less from Alastor Moody, but still, it made her think of what she would be doing today had she been with her friends.

Molly would have knitted them all sweaters that the boys would have joked about but lovingly wore, she would have gushed over whatever Harry got Ginny with the girl, and would have helped Molly make breakfast after the stampede that was the boys rushing to open gifts had finished. Arthur would have sat and happily watched them all, and would have exchanged loving kisses with his wife the entire time.

It was May in their time, so Christmas was still half a year away. Though Hermione did succeed in getting Bellatrix to come to the Order’s headquarters, she was still furious enough to do something stupid. What if she went back on her word and went back to their father and Voldemort. If Hermione did end up messing this up more than she already had, who of her friends would survive to see the next Christmas? Which initial would Molly not be stitching this year?

“I have no interest in what Granger has to say. I have been told to get information from _you_ , you insolent brat,” Moody yelled back, drawing Hermione from her thoughts and worries. “As I was saying, when I return tonight, you and I are going to discuss Voldemort’s plans.” 

“Over my dead body,” Bellatrix scoffed, crossing her arms and cocking her head in that way that never ceased to enrage Hermione. 

Hermione didn’t have the energy to intervene, not after last night, so she just leaned further against the wall and watched Moody deal with the storm that was a stubborn Bellatrix Black.

“Lives are at stake, Black, more than you can wrap your head around. You would be so willing to let them all die for your own selfish, childish reasonings? That is not acceptable. Dumbledore gave me a job, and I will finish it. As I was saying. When I return tonight, we are continuing this conversation.” With that, Moody walked past Hermione without so much as a hello, grabbed his coat, and stormed out the front door. 

Bellatrix screamed, “ _No_!” at his retreating back, and only became more furious at the door closing as his answer coupled with the sight of Hermione. “Here for round two, Granger?”

It felt slightly surreal to hear her actual last name coming from Bellatrix’s mouth, but the hatred that laced the words did not indicate it was a step in the right direction. Hermione refused to answer, refused to give Bellatrix the benefit of seeing her upset like she had the night before. Her silence just had the added effect of pissing off the girl more, as she said nothing else and stomped up the stairs, away from them all. A moment later, the sound of the door slamming rattled them.

After more than a minute of the three of them left in uncomfortable silence, Andromeda said, “I’m hungry,” throwing her head back against the cushioned backrest of the couch and staring up at the popcorn ceiling.

“So am I,” Narcissa added, and it made Hermione realize none of them had eaten in sometime now. She hadn’t eaten anything at the party, nor had she seen any of them eat either. When was the last time they had food? It had to be lunch yesterday, but that was a rushed and uncomfortable affair with the girls’ parents that none of them enjoyed.

Hermione pushed herself from the wall, deciding right then and there she would not let Bellatrix ruin such an important holiday. She would not let any of them see her weak any longer. “Let’s make something then. Let’s do a Christmas breakfast.” Memories of Molly’s food were still fresh in her mind, and though she knew she’d never be able to do anything as tasty, it was better than nothing. “Come on.” She didn’t bother looking towards the stairs where Bellatrix had stomped up moments prior, instead walking into the kitchen to see what their options were.

Evidently very bleak, as Hermione opened cabinets that held only the bare minimum. The fridge was much the same, though there were copious amounts of alcohol above it, curtesy of Moody, she was sure. But there was eggs, milk, bread, and some fruit. It would be a pitiful Christmas breakfast, but it was still better than nothing. She had just finished pulling everything out when Narcissa and Andromeda joined, watching her movements.

“We don’t know how to make breakfast,” Andromeda confessed, moving to stand beside Hermione and grab an egg, but did nothing more. “Show us?”

Hermione agreed, thankful for the slight sense of normalcy between her and Andromeda and even Narcissa, as they all slowly cracked eggs into a bowl. More shells ended up in the bowl than even when Ron would help with breakfast, and every few seconds they were having to stop so Hermione could fish them out with a fork. Narcissa added what was definitely too much salt, and so Andromeda decided to counteract that by adding even more pepper, and Hermione had to stop them both before they reached for the milk. They ended up with an egg mixture that probably was slightly crunchy, and what had to be the saltiest in existence, but Andromeda was laughing, and smiled at Hermione, and even Narcissa seemed to be enjoying herself.

“So, just, pour it into the pan and stir it around until they look like scrambled eggs,” Hermione explained as Narcissa did as instructed, pouring the batter into the hot pan too quickly and spilling some in the process. “That’s okay!” Hermione added quickly. “Now just stir it. They only take a few minutes to cook.”

Narcissa did as instructed, carefully moving the batter around as it began to solidify, and then equally divided the pile onto three plates Andromeda had gathered. The youngest girl’s movements were meticulous as she filled the plates, and the three of them then went to the table to eat. It was quiet, but some of that tension between the three of them slipped away, minute by minute.

Bellatrix never once came down.

* * *

“Hey,” Andromeda said as she sat down beside Hermione at the kitchen table. The older girl had claimed the space to finish up her couple of remaining assignments, and had spent the last hour or so undisturbed as she wrote. She had no idea what the others were getting up to, though the lack of arguing hinted to Bellatrix still sleeping. “Is that for Defense Against the Dark Arts?” 

“Yeah, I’m nearly finished. This was the longest essay I had to do over the holidays. How are your assignments coming?” Hermione asked, mostly distracted by the paper before her, but still giving enough attention to her friend.

“Just about done too,” came Andromeda quick response before she firmly sat a small box before Hermione, who stared at the bright gold and red paper covering it all, along with the emerald green bow stuck in the middle. 

Hermione picked up the little box, finding it very light and made no noise when she shook it. “What’s this?” 

“A Christmas gift, genius. Open it.” 

Only hesitating slightly, Hermione careful took off the bow and pulled off the corners of the paper where it was taped. Ignoring Andromeda’s mocking snort at her careful actions, she lifted the white lid, found what was obviously a black jewelry box, and opened at as well. And let out a small gasp at what she found on the cushion inside.

It was a golden lion on a slim chain, the mane made up of tiny, twinkling diamonds.

“Andromeda-” 

“I found it weeks ago, and something about it made me think of you. Makes sense that it would, since you’re a Gryffindor and all,” the girl said, shrugging her shoulders easily as she smiled at Hermione. 

Last night, when Hermione had filled Narcissa and Andromeda in on her true purpose for being here, she had told them she was actually in Gryffindor during one of her rambling sentences when she was trying to fill the silence. Now, she stared at the necklace and had to bite her lip to keep the tears from forming.

“Ack, don’t do that again,” Andromeda laughed, motioning for Hermione to turn around so she could help her clasp it around her neck. “Listen, Hermione... I know last night Cissy and I’s reactions might not have been as... warm as you were hoping but-”

“I understand, Andromeda, I promise,” Hermione said quietly, fingering the small lion now securely against her chest as she moved back to look at Andromeda. “I lied to you all for so long, it’s perfectly understandable that you’d be angry or-” 

Andromeda cut her off quickly, that easy smile still in place. “You did lie, and last night it had me thinking about a lot of things, but I get why you did what you did. You come from a world that is so much more dangerous than anything we could understand right now, and you didn’t know who of us you could trust.”

Hermione’s world was dangerous, and it was more than any of them could understand right now, but it wouldn’t be that way for long. The Death Eaters attacking Hogsmeade weeks ago was only the beginning of an eleven year war, one that would put the Wizarding World in terror and cost so many lives.

“And if what you said about Bella is true then... I’m pretty sure Cissy and I should be thanking you for trying to save our sister, even if you didn’t come back here to do it for us. And- I am glad you did come here, because you’re one of the best friends I could have asked for, Hermione.” 

She was going to cry, she was definitely going to cry now. Andromeda noticed it, and lightly shoved her shoulder, making her laugh instead. “Thank you, Andy,” she finally mumbled, rubbing one eye slowly. “For the gift, it’s really beautiful. I-I love it. And for saying what you did. It means a lot.”

“For what it’s worth, Bella will come around too. It’ll probably take a while, but... she’s stubborn, and won’t admit it but this hurt her. So, she’s going to be a bitch for a while, but don’t let it get to you. She’s a bitch to everyone she cares about.”

Hurt, Hermione could understand. She would never try to argue that what she did was by any means morally correct, and Bellatrix and Narcissa and Andromeda had every right to be upset and hurt with her. What they did not have a right to be was downright combative and purposefully hurtful. 

“Thank you, Andy,” she repeated instead, having no interest in talking about or thinking about Bellatrix any more. Andromeda, understanding this, nodded and left her alone in the kitchen once more. 

* * *

Auror work seemingly took no breaks, as even on Christmas Day Moody was gone until well past dinner, which was a meal that consisted of more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. This, Bellatrix did come down for, though she was perhaps more hostile than anytime Hermione had seen before, to the point that even Narcissa was telling her to shut up or leave. Bellatrix chose the latter, angrily stomping back upstairs without bothering to finish her sandwich. 

When Moody did return, standing at the base of the stairs and yelling for Bellatrix to come down, Hermione knew this conversation would not be going well for any of them. 

She had been in the living room with Andromeda and Narcissa, the three of them entertaining themselves by listening to the radio. There was not a single interesting thing going on in their world right now, which, given how dark a turn things would soon take, Hermione was thankful for, even if she was bored out of her mind listening to the reporter drone on and on about a new legislation regarding importing and exporting magical goods. 

It was close to ten when the door clicked open and Moody entered, and then they all waited with baited breath to hear how Bellatrix would respond to being told to come downstairs. In what had to be the most un-Bellatrix-like way, she came down immediately, looked at none of them, and threw herself down onto the couch, stiff backed and crossed arms, glaring at the radio as if just thinking about it hard enough would make it combust. 

“Are we able to skip the pleasantries and get right to business?” Moody asked when he came into the living room, sitting opposite Bellatrix and paying the others in the room no mind. 

Bellatrix gave him a smile that was indicator enough about her feelings of cooperation. 

“We’re on a time crunch, see, and I’ve been given orders. I’m not a fan of not fulfilling my orders.” There was a weariness to Moody right now, a sort of exhaustion in his shoulders as he sat on the couch that told Hermione whatever Auror work he had spent all Christmas doing had not been easy, and now he was here, preparing to once more argue with Bellatrix. 

“You are on a time crunch,” Bellatrix said scathingly, looking at her nails as a sign of dismissal. “The only time crunch I am on is the one where this horrid holiday break ends and I can leave all of this behind to return to Hogwarts.” 

“And then what? You have months until you graduate, where will you go?” Moody challenged, his face getting slightly red with fury the longer Bellatrix spoke in that tone. “You made a decision Christmas Eve that is not going to go away any time soon, girl, do you expect to be able to return to Black Manor, with your father with open arms?” 

“I have no interest in returning to Black Manor,” Bellatrix admitted, causing Hermione to raise her eyebrows in surprise. A part of Hermione had feared the girl, for whatever reason or another, would have resented leaving her family like that, would have resented turning her back on everything she had ever known, just to be stuck in a muggle home with a girl she currently could not stand. It was more than a little relieving to hear Bellatrix was not inclined to go running back to her parents and begging for forgiveness, even if Bellatrix had never begged for anything before. 

Moody sighed at Bellatrix’s blatant tone of disinterest. “Do you know what it is I do?” Perhaps he finally decided getting into an argument with her would lead him absolutely no where. Hermione could have told him that. 

“Unless I’ve received a concussion I had no idea about, I am aware you are an Auror,” Bellatrix replied dryly, scowling at the man with her arms crossed. 

Andromeda choked on a cough that was without a doubt a hidden laugh, but wisely refrained from any sort of commentary. 

“I hunt dark wizards, yes. Men and women who have decided they no longer wish to follow the Ministry’s rules, or who have decided they want more power than they already have, and will stop at nothing to get it.” 

“Everyone is more than aware of the illustrious Aurors, Moody. The Ministry’s pride and joy, hm?” 

“Then you know what happens to those dark wizards when we catch them. And we will catch them. Every last one of them. For most of them, they surrender after a bit of struggle. Others... don’t, and often times that does lead to them dying in the fight. For the ones we take back to the Ministry, they’re sentenced to a life in Azkaban to either wither away and die, or they get a Kiss.” 

Hermione didn’t want to think of the prison, or of the ghastly beasts that worked as guards there. Voldemort would win them over sooner or later, as he had in her time when two attacked Harry in their fifth year. She hated thinking about Dementors, and it seemed Bellatrix wasn’t fond of hearing about them either, if the slight bob of her throat was any indication. 

But that bravado was firmly in place as the scowl on her face deepened and she said, “Clearly they were not skilled wizards then.”

“I have gone to face off against wizards far stronger than you could ever hope to be, and look who walked off to tell the tail,” Moody responded tensely, and Hermione had to hold back from shaking her head in disagree. There were very few people who would be able to face Bellatrix and be the one to walk away. She had first hand experience with how skilled the older girl was, something that this Moody would not know of, not yet at least. 

This was getting nowhere. Bellatrix would keep him going in circles as she got him more and more riled up, just for her own entertainment. Of that Hermione was certain. “Bella,” she said suddenly, causing those beautiful dark eyes to settle on her for the first time since this morning, and she would be lying to say it didn’t take her breath away, even if they were twinged with annoyance. “You wanted to keep your sisters safe. This is how you do it. Moody is going to report what you say to others, and whatever names you give him, whatever information you provide, very well could be the difference between an innocent person living and dying.” 

Bellatrix opened her mouth to most likely send some insulting remark Hermione’s way, maybe a comment about Hermione having the audacity to speak to her at all, but Narcissa beat her sister to it, saying something sharp and quick in French that had Bellatrix’s eyebrows furrowing and Andromeda laughing. 

But the eldest Black shrugged her shoulders, leaned back against the chair and said, “Ask away,” as if she was always going to cooperate and didn’t need to be scolded by her baby sister to get to this point. 

“Narcissa, Andromeda,” Moody said suddenly, gaining the youngest two’s attention as he looked to them. “Go somewhere else. You two don’t need to be a part of this discussion any further.” 

Hermione remained in the room, and watched as the others had no choice but to listen, looking very furious and put out at being sent away, but she remembered her first time in the Order, how none of the adults wanted to bring any of them into it, and had kept them shoved upstairs in Grimmauld Place while meetings took place in the kitchen. It had enraged Harry, and he argued vehemently to be filled in on information pertaining to him, despite Molly Weasley’s protests. So she knew how they felt, but also could now see it from the adults’ perspectives, how they wanted to preserve their innocence for as long as possible. Hermione said nothing as they sulked away. 

The minute they were gone, Moody pounced. “Names of the people involved.” 

“You could be interrogating Muddy, you know, she knows names as well.” 

“If you are trying to goad either one of us into an argument,” Moody began slowly, testily, “I am telling you now it will not work. So, you can either stop using that slur right now and answer my questions without running your mouth each time, or you can not. It’s up to you on how you want to precede here.” 

It was very easy indeed to see how Moody would go on to become the top Auror the Ministry had ever seen. He was able to stay level headed, not allowing the enemy to get inside his head and throw him off balance, which was absolutely what Bellatrix was trying to do now, with no such luck. Not to mention the way he could thinly veil a threat, make it seem like the person had a choice to cooperate or not, even though in reality they did not. 

It worked well enough, as Bellatrix rolled her eyes and began slowly listing off names of pure-bloods indoctrinated into the cause. There was no hesitation as she said Rodolphus or Rabastan’s names, no sense of lingering friendship or loyalty to either of them on her pretty face. The rest of the names Hermione only recognized from articles; a few Rosier’s, two Carrow’s, a Parkinson, Burke, and Rowle. No Malfoy’s, Goyle’s, or Crabbe’s yet, though Hermione knew when the men came of age Voldemort would get them too. This army was much smaller, though Voldemort’s reign of terror was just beginning, and would only continue to grow in size and strength over the next eleven years. 

“Locations? Safe houses?” 

Bellatrix shrugged. “No idea.”

“You’ve never been to any meetings with him?”

“I have.”

A vein in Moody’s forehead pulsed. “So where did this meeting take place?”

“I don’t know.” Bellatrix looked at her nails once more and said, “I was knocked unconscious. When I woke up, I was there. When it was time to leave, well, I was bit too roughed up to really pay attention to where we were.” 

Hermione started at that, a memory immediately surfacing from the back of her mind of Bellatrix bruises and battered in the common room so late at night. Was that what she was talking about, or had she been beaten another time? Hermione opened her mouth to voice her questions, but the sharp look from Bellatrix kept her silent. For now. 

“Is there anything else you know then?” 

“I’m sure there is, if I think long and hard about her.” A saccharine smile, the tip of her tongue poking through as she could tell she was finally getting under Moody’s thick skin. 

“Girl-” 

Hermione didn’t have the energy to listen to any of this anymore, not when she could feel a headache forming, a slight pulsing at her temples. Bellatrix had been helpful, somewhat, in providing names, some of which belonging to Ministry workers, but of course she had to go and make it near impossible to continue the conversation. 

As she walked away, the other two too distracted in their renewed bickering, she headed towards the patio door in the kitchen and slipped outside for the first time, trying to ignore the prominent chill in the air. 

Dumbledore, Moody, whoever found this safe house, didn’t bother spelling the yard to look as nice as the inside, and so it was just a decrepit as the front appeared to muggles. The grass was brown and nearly knee high, the one lone tree in the back corner was thin and dying, and the set of patio furniture on the cement by the door had seen better days. 

Which was why it was such a shock to find Narcissa sitting in one of them, her back straight and not touching the backrest. Hermione had seen her leave the living room, but had wrongly assumed she went upstairs like Andromeda had. 

“Oh, hey, Narcissa,” Hermione said slowly, wondering if she should just turn around and leave the girl alone. But Narcissa looked up at her and motioned for her to take the empty seat. “It’s freezing out here.” 

“It is,” the blonde agreed after a moment of silence, turning to look at Hermione for only a second before looking around the neighborhood, taking in the many twinkling christmas lights that lined the houses surrounding them, the slight echo of holiday music coming from one or more of the open windows. “I never stopped to consider muggles would celebrate Christmas the same way as us.” 

“The gifts are much less... magical,” Hermione said, for lack of a better word. “But the joy, the celebration, the wonder, it’s all there still.” 

“You must miss your family.” 

Hermione swallowed, looking down at the dirt covered ground. If trying not to think of her friends and the Weasley’s celebrating Christmas, she had tried even harder not to think of her parents. “It’s odd,” she said thickly. “Technically, I don’t exist, and my parents don’t even know one another in this time, so I’m not missed by anyone. And in my time- in my time, I oblivated them, so they don’t remember me to miss me, but I remember everything.” 

That caught Narcissa’s full attention, and she looked to Hermione curiously. “You Oblivated your parents?” 

“Moody and Dumbledore are right to worry in this time, that things are going to get dangerous very soon. In my time, things are already so incredibly dangerous, and there are people that would hurt my parents to get to me and my friends.” 

“People like my sister.” Not a question. 

“Yes,” Hermione said simply, watching Narcissa watch her. There were so many times she forgot the girl was only thirteen, so many times she forgot she had no connection to the cold and calculating woman who would destroy everything to protect her child. “We all had to make sacrifices, and that was one of mine.” 

Narcissa’s eyes dipped down to Hermione’s chest- no, to her neck- and stayed there for some time before she made eye contact once more. When she spoke next, she had changed the topic entirely. 

“So that’s what she ended up getting you.” 

Hermione fiddled with the diamond lion still around her neck. She wouldn’t be taking it off any time soon. “It was a very wonderful gift, I love it very much.”

“I’m surprised she’d bring herself to purchase a lion. She has the utmost pride in being Slytherin.” 

Andromeda had never said as much, but Hermione had never questioned the girl’s house placement. Slytherin fit her. But there had never been any vocalized pride about it. 

“I'm very happy with my lion,” Hermione finally said. 

“I’m surprised she was able to hide the purchase from our father. He would have been furious if he caught her with anything even slightly resembling Gryffindor.” Narcissa was quiet before she added, “Her trying out for Quidditch and making the team as chaser was just another way to represent our prideful house.” 

“Yeah- _wait_!” Hermione said quickly, jerking her head to stare at Narcissa, her hand still around the lion. “You think _Bellatrix_ gave me this?” 

Narcissa looked at her for a moment, her lips pursed, before she flatly said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Forever one to stand by her sisters, that was for sure, even if Hermione could just make out the barest hints of confusion in her blue eyes. 

“You did. You thought Bellatrix got me this, because she did get me _something_ ,” Hermione worked out, more to herself than her companion. She looked up to the darkened sky with furrowed eyebrows, her bottom lip sucked between her teeth as she concentrated. “Narcissa-”

“I don’t know anything,” came the fast reply, followed shortly thereafter by Narcissa standing up and bidding Hermione a quiet goodnight as she walked back into the house, clearly preferring risking walking into another argument than staying out with Hermione any longer, not when the conversation went in such an unexpected direction. 

Well, this conversation did nothing to distract her from thoughts of Bellatrix or make her headache any less painful. 

* * *

It was hours later that Hermione found herself back in the kitchen. After the... confusing conversation with Narcissa, she had went back into the house only to find Bellatrix and Moody still talking to one another in the living room, and so she ventured upstairs, her hand on her necklace, completely lost in thought. 

She hadn’t yet decided if that was a mistake or not when she spotted Moody sat at the table, a half finished bottle of fire whiskey and an empty glass cup in front of him, along with a stack of parchment. A small brown owl sat on the counter, sleepily eating some food as it awaited being sent back out.

Moody gave her a nod of acknowledgment as he poured more alcohol into his glass, but otherwise said nothing to her as she went about getting a drink. It wasn’t until she bid him goodnight that he spoke. “Have a seat, Miss Granger.”

Only hesitating slightly, Hermione obeyed and pulled out the chair opposite of him, settling down and placing her own glass on the table.

“You think my way of getting her to talk is brutish, I assume?” He nodded his head towards the ceiling, making it quite clear to whom ‘her’ referred to. “There is a war brewing, Miss Granger, one no one wants to speak about. Dumbledore assured me you are aware of the seriousness of the situation, that you are perhaps more suited than all of us to understand it. I trust you because Dumbledore is a strong, wise wizard, who has done more for our cause than anyone could ever grasp. It’s because of that that I am showing you this.”

He tossed the topmost piece of parchment across the table, and she pulled it closer to her, looking over the hastily written words stained onto the curled paper. None of it made any sense, for the singular reason that it was in a language she had never seen before, and wasn’t quite sure existed. To her, all of the slopping and conjoined letters looked illegible and made up, some even placed upon one another in an unintelligible jumble. Moody watched her face shift from interest to confusion, and pulled out his wand, leaning over the table to say a spell that had the letters rearrangement themselves into English.

“We need to remain a constant vigilance- never know who could intercept these letters, and with the Order so new and untested, we cannot risk anyone finding out about us just yet,” Moody explained, gesturing for her to now read it. 

_It is as you thought. It was confirmed that the one you have been watching is now committed to their cause, along with the sibling. It is still unknown on how large the army currently is, but the source hinted that they grow in number everyday. The source has not been very forthcoming in further information. The Ministry would need more information before they choose to act on this. A couple muggle disappearances are not their concern. Will send more if the source divulges anything else. Remain on the look-out_.

There was no indication on who the letter was addressed to, nor any sign off, and would surely confuse anyone if it were successfully intercepted before it reached the intended recipient. Hermione assumed it was to Dumbledore, as the source was absolutely Bellatrix. ‘The one you have been watching’ could be anyone, though the added part about a sibling hinted that it was most likely Rodolphus and Rabastan, which did make Hermione pause as she thought it over.

For some reason, she hadn’t expected Bellatrix to confess it was her (boy?) friend and his sibling that were working with Voldemort, as she hadn’t mentioned a single thing about Rodolphus being in the hallway trying to stop them on Christmas Eve.

“Rodolphus and Rabastan?” She asked, just to confirm her thoughts, and nodded to herself when Moody did so. “When Death Eaters attacked Hogsmeade weeks ago, both of them chased Andromeda, our friend, and myself through the woods too.”

Moody poured a small amount of whiskey into his cup, and then drained it all quickly. “Dumbledore has had his suspicions about the Lestrange boys since last year.”

“What’ll happen to them now then?” Most likely nothing, Hermione knew, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

She was proven correct when Moody said, “Dumbledore’s hands are tied when it comes to expulsion, especially concerning two pure-blooded sons. The governors would never agree to it, and the parental response would put the Ministry into an uproar.” Another bit of alcohol added before he slammed that back too. “He’ll have them watched, when they’re on the grounds, but ultimately... nothing to be done.”

It was that sort of thinking that had so many of the students in these next few years turning to fight for Voldemort’s cause, Hermione thought bitterly. Voldemort would recruit so many students near Bellatrix’s age over the next couple of years, and Hogwarts would do nothing to stop it. Most likely would not even acknowledge the brewing war, if the Ministry had anything to say about it.

“If there is anything else I should know, I suggest you say so now.”

There was... so much to be said, but none that wouldn’t overly impact the future. Hermione knew certain things needed to happen, despite how tragic they may be. Not to mention she didn’t know the small scuffles of this war, certainly not so early in the beginning. Their lessons talked about the big battles, Muggle studies addressed the massacres of muggles throughout the eleven years, but never dates, never names of those involved.

“There isn’t anything else I can say,” she finally mumbled, draining the rest of the water in her cup.

Moody’s eyes were slightly fuzzy now as he refilled his glass once more, offering the bottle to her, to which she waved it off, watching all of his movements. He was already on his way to becoming a famed Auror, one known for the victories against dark wizards, but the cost was... steep. He would never marry, never have children, and the job would cost him some of his sanity, a man who would spend the rest of his days before he was killed in battle claiming people were out to get him. Much of it was a sham, a way to keep people from looking at him too closely, Hermione knew that, but there was always a kernel of truth to his claims, a part of him that did believe the words he was screaming, the tea kettles he would attack, thinking them a transfigured wizard.

He lived through this first war, had seen the tragedies that would come of it, and yet he did not hesitate to reinstitute the Order when they were needed once more.

A good man. Moody was a good man, despite him screaming back and forth with Bellatrix, though Hermione did have to admit the girl could make even the most rational people lose their calm mindsets.

But then he said, “There is more she hasn’t said, you know,” once more looking to the ceiling. He tossed another paper to Hermione, this one a folded up grey and black news paper- a muggle one.

**THIRTY-ONE PEOPLE REPORTED MISSING ON CHRISTMAS MORNING**

_Christmas was not a warm and spiritual day, not for the sixteen families who reported children, spouses, or relatives missing the day before. All of the families reported a similar story to the police officers charged with investigating this most unusual occurrence, and said one moment the missing people were home, or at work, and the next- gone, disappeared in a puff of black smoke._

_The police currently have no leads on the whereabouts of these people, all ranging in age, ethnicity, religion, and socioeconomic status. The youngest reported missing is thirteen year old Jonathan Baker, while the oldest is fifty-six year old Mildred Atkins, mother of four and grandmother of two. None of the reported people have a history of running away, nor do any of them have any sort of criminal record._

_If anybody has any leads, or sees any of the people mentioned and pictured below, the police and their families are asking to be called at the following number, any time and any day_.

Thirty-one small black and white photos then took up the rest of the page, followed by the number the article mentioned, along with the name of the police chief in charge.

“What-”

“Odd, isn’t it, that thirty-one people go missing on Christmas Eve, within the same vicinity of one another? On the very same night Bellatrix was supposed to be inducted into Voldemort’s army?”

Was that what Bellatrix’s party would lead to? Something having to do with muggles? She looked down to her glamoured arm, and knew that whatever had happened to those people was a fate worse than death- for a time, until the Death Eaters did ultimately kill them all. For there was no doubt that was what had happened. Once the fun had ended for the dark wizards, the muggles would have been killed.

“You think this has to do with Bellatrix?”

“I think we are too uninformed to keep anything out of the realm of possibilities,” Moody replied levelly, pushing himself off of the chair. Even with his hazy eyes, he did not stumble as he took the note for Dumbledore over to the owl and tied it around the bird’s ankle, shoving it towards the window where it took flight and disappeared into the night. “You should get some rest, Hermione, for I don’t think we have many peaceful days left, not anymore.”

She stood up to listen, exhaustion now deep in her bones, but another article caught her attention, this one farthest from Moody on the table, closer to the wall. She read the title and didn’t need to look any further.

**Bartemius Crouch Promoted to Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement**

A conversation during her fourth year at Hogwarts flashed through her mind, of her, Harry, Ron, and Sirius Black together in a cave, of Sirius telling them the laws Barty Crouch Sr. had bent to try and stop Voldemort. That would be happening soon, and many a wizard would be sent to Azkaban without trial. Is that what Moody meant? Did he see the path Crouch wanted to take the Ministry down, or was it something else?

“You should get some rest,” he repeated, and Hermione said nothing more as she left the kitchen, walked quietly to the door and slowly pushed it open. 

It was not to her bedroom that she went, but to Narcissa and Bellatrix’s, and it was the latter’s bed that she now marched to, poking the sleeping girl’s shoulder only slightly roughly, until Bellatrix rolled onto her back and mumbled what was most definitely some sort of threat at being woken up. 

“Get up,” Hermione demanded, her mind on the conversation with Moody. Things were not going to be easy from here on out in their world, and she would not go into this with Bellatrix hating her, with Bellatrix hiding things from the Order. “We need to talk.” 

While Bellatrix shoved her tangled hair out of her face and moved to sit on the bed, Hermione walked to Narcissa’s side of the bedroom, and much more gently than she did the girl’s sister, prodded her awake. Narcissa’s blonde hair was more frazzled than Hermione had ever seen before as she blearily blinked up as Hermione said, “Could you go and sleep with Andy, please?” 

Throwing a confused and slightly annoyed look at Bellatrix, Narcissa pulled herself from the warm confines of the bed and, rubbing one eye, slowly shuffled out of the room. Hermione waited until she heard her own bedroom door click open and then closed before she looked to Bellatrix. 

And tried not to let herself get distracted. 

Bellatrix had been sleeping in a thinly strapped black nightgown, of which the right shoulder had slipped down and now clung to her bicep, the muscle visible as she shifted to watch Hermione, who just watched her back. 

That stupidly breath taking attractiveness aside, even with the scowl on her face, Bellatrix looked the most gentle Hermione had seen her, more wild hair than girl, unfocused eyes, leaning against the wall and struggling not to blink so often or long.

“While I’d typically enjoy putting you in your place,” Bellatrix said, the low and raspy tone of her voice doing things to Hermione's body that she couldn’t acknowledge right now. “I’d rather sleep.”

Hermione sat in Narcissa’s bed, pulling her legs up to tuck them underneath her as she did so. Bellatrix watched all of her movements, but didn’t reach for her wand. “In 1981, you and three other Death Eaters break into a family’s house, and torture a mother and father to the point of insanity using the Cruciatus curse.”

A slight widen of Bellatrix’s dark eyes was the only indication she processed the statement, but Hermione pressed on.

“Like I told you before, you’re going to be sentenced to life in prison. You break out after fourteen years, and you and others attack me and my friends at the Ministry of Magic when I’m fifteen.” 

“Why are you-”

“When I am sixteen... you break into Hogwarts and are a part of the group that kills someone very special to... so many people.” Rules be damned right now, or as much as she was willing. She couldn’t say it was Dumbledore who died, or who actually threw the killing curse, but she could say this, could.... could make sure Bellatrix really understood what all Hermione was trying to prevent. 

“Granger-” 

“I’m talking now,” Hermione snapped, “you said enough last night.” Those words would be on her mind for some time, she knew that to be true. _No one cares about you. Not in my time, and not in yours_. “And then...” the words became leaden in her throat, a physical effort to get them out, even as she held out her left arm, the glamor firmly in place even now, her hand shaking more than she would have liked to admit right then. “And then when I was seventeen, you pinned me to the ground, you used the Cruciatus curse on me.”

Bellatrix’s throat bobbed as she swallowed.

“After you were done with the curse, you- you did this.” Hermione waved her wand over her arm, the magic disappearing, to leave the pale pink words, crudely carved into her arm with a spelled dagger so it may never fade. 

The dark haired witch jerked from the bed at that, standing in the center of the room, so still, so unmoving. Her pupils were blown, and the sudden quick movements of her chest caught Hermione’s attention as she watched the girl nearly hyperventilate.

“You’re lying,” Bellatrix hissed, her gaze wholly on the scar. 

“I’m not.”

The room felt too small, too cramped, too hot, with Bellatrix’s penetrating gaze on her, all anger and denial in those uniquely deep eyes, made more prominent by the rosy blush on her face.

“Then I don’t believe you.” 

Hermione refused to let her face show any sort of emotion, any recognition that hearing that claim hurt her. Bellatrix had hurt her enough last night. She would not cry over her again, would not give her the power to hurt her again. “I think you do, Bella, I think that’s why you’re so affected by this right now. You did this to me. _You_. This mark is going to be on my body for the rest of my life _because of you_. And I still came here. _Expendable_ or not, I am still risking everything I have for this mission. Because you are such a horrid, wretched, dangerous woman, that my side saw no other choice except to send a seventeen year old back thirty years in time!” 

She wasn’t expendable, she knew that, but it hadn’t stopped Bellatrix’s words from hitting some small, insecure part she had buried deep within herself. A painful reminder of her beginning at Hogwarts, when she had had no friends, no one to talk to. But it had all changed once Ron and Harry became her friends, and then she most definitely had not been expendable, not at all. 

And maybe, maybe McGonagall hadn’t sent her here just because her professor assumed she would be the only one rational enough to stay focus (an assumption she had proven wrong, unfortunately), but also as a way to heal from her trauma. Bellatrix Black had been a figure that haunted her nightmares, the torture still painfully fresh in her heart and soul when she had first come here, but now? Now, when she thought of Bellatrix, her mind went to a mouthy seventeen year who loved her sisters, who loved to play Quidditch, who loved to annoy the ever-loving Merlin out of Hermione, but someone who _was_ a friend. A child with her own trauma, her own burdens, but someone Hermione was inexplicably drawn to. 

If she dug deeper, if she allowed herself to really acknowledge it, acknowledge the kisses between them and the almost going further than that, well... 

Hermione _liked_ this Bellatrix, liked _Bella._ The girl with the teasing grins, the gorgeous eyes, the wicked mouth, the one who would check on her if she got hurt in Quidditch and then immediately make fun of her once she knew it was nothing serious. Liked everything about her, even the dark and ugly parts of her. 

That was the biggest reason she had cried so hard last night. She liked Bella, and to think even for a moment the girl viewed her as weak or expendable or anything of the other harsh words she had spit at Hermione. 

“Why do I care what you think?” Bellatrix was saying, pure fire in her eyes, even as she just kept looking at Hermione’s scar. “You think me some sort of monster, I’m sure, if I supposedly did that to you.” 

“You do care what I think,” Hermione said softly, thinking back to her conversation with Narcissa. “You care enough to have listened to me on your birthday, when you could have just turned me over to any of the Death Eaters downstairs. You care enough to want to get me a Christmas gift.” 

Bellatrix’s mouth opened, and then closed, and then opened again. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Why are you so insistent that you don’t like me?” Hermione asked instead of pointing out the obvious lie, instead of throwing Narcissa further under the bus, even if Bellatrix would most likely be able to figure out why she knew about the gift. 

“What’s there to like?” 

“I’m not playing this back and forth with you anymore, Bella,” Hermione sighed, running a hand through her knotted hair. “You want to hate me? It’ll hurt, I won’t lie, but hate me. I’m tired of trying to convince you that I’m worth having a friendship with, or that I do care about what happens to you. Even after all the terrible things you’ve said, I still care about you, but I’m not going to let myself be treated like this anymore. We’ll finish the holiday here, and when we get back to Hogwarts, you’ll never have to talk to me again. I’ll figure out how to return to my time now that you’ve helped the Order, and you’ll never see me again.” 

She was tired of this, so undeniably tired of everything. Bellatrix might be someone she liked, cared for, and her sisters as well, but nothing was worth the emotional turmoil the girl was willing to put Hermione through, if only for her own personal amusement or because she did genuinely despise her now. Hermione turned and made to walk back to the door, whatever fire spurred her to come try and talk to Bellatrix now extinguished. 

Before she could even reach the doorknob, a warm, smooth hand was tightly gripping her wrist, holding her place. “You would truly leave, just like that?” 

Hermione looked over her shoulder at Bellatrix, now much closer and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I was sent back here to make sure you didn’t join Voldemort, that’s all I was supposed to do. I wasn’t supposed to befriend Andy and even Narcissa. I wasn’t supposed to like this time. I had one job. I definitely wasn’t supposed to like _you_. But I did. I do. I like all of you. And leaving... I don’t know if that’s what I want, at least right now. I was actually enjoying myself with you, as selfish as that is. Maybe that’s wrong, I don’t know, but yes, I would truly leave all of that behind, if that’s what you wanted.” 

“That isn’t what I want.” The statement came so quick, so softly, Hermione would have thought she imagined it had it not been for the slight blush, so uncharacteristic, now marking Bellatrix’s sharp cheeks. Her bottom lip was sucked between her teeth before she said, if just to regain some semblance of suave indifference, “At least wait until after the Quidditch Cup so you can help Slytherin win.” 

Hermione barked a laugh, the comment so unexpected but so entirely Bellatrix. “Maybe I should switch over to Gryffindor now. Help my true house win.”

“Muggle-born or not,” Bellatrix said slowly, “Slytherin is your house. You’d be an idiot to want to support those hideous lions.” 

It was a testament to their relationship, the friendship they had built over the last few weeks, that they could so easily regain the traction they had lost on Christmas Eve. The Bellatrix was September would have sent curses flying her way without any sort of hesitation or remorse, would have laughed the entire time she did so. But now, Bellatrix just dropped Hermione’s wrist with a halfhearted roll of her eyes and walked back to her bed, throwing over her shoulder, “Narcissa is a rat for saying anything about a supposed gift.” 

They’d be fine, the two of them, Hermione knew as she smiled at Bellatrix’s back, walking to sit back down on Narcissa’s bed. They would be completely fine. 


	15. XV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> life decided to kick my ass in between chapter 14 and 15 :/ sorry for such a long delay

Bellatrix was still asleep when Hermione woke up the next morning, the older girl sprawled out on her bed, blanket kicked to the bottom, long, toned legs on display due to her nightgown, and hair as wild and knotted as ever. The scene was _slightly_ ruined by Fatty, curled up in the corner of the bed at Bellatrix’s feet, silently watching all of her movements, obviously visibly annoyed at her presence in the room. Hermione hesitated only a moment before she righted the disrupted blanket back into place and quickly left the room.

Andromeda was in the hallway, having just come from the shower, wet hair pulled into a sloppy bun atop her head. She gave one look to the room Hermione just exited and then looked to her, a mocking grin that looked too much like Bellatrix now on her face. “Morning, Hermione,” she said cheekily. “Did the love birds make up? You didn’t sleep in our room.”

Much to her chagrin, Hermione couldn’t stop the blush that overtook her face the moment Andromeda spoke, even as she rolled her eyes. “I had to talk to Bellatrix, and didn’t want to make Narcissa switch rooms again, so I slept in her bed.”

“And how are you and Bella? Is she done being a right pain in the ass?” 

“We talked it through,” Hermione said simply, seeing no reason to discuss the actual details of her and Bellatrix’s conversation, even to Andromeda. “We’re on the same page.” 

“Screamed it through, more correctly,” Andromeda responded, dodging the slap Hermione tried to get her with. “I’m glad you two are fine now. You’re a bit hot and cold, you know? Never can tell when you’re good, unless of course you’re kis-” 

“Okay!” Hermione said quickly, lightly knocking the girl aside so she could walk down the stairs, ignoring both Andromeda’s teasing laugh and the way her cheeks were way too hot right now. _Why_ did Bellatrix have to get drunk and confess they had kissed to Andromeda? Why couldn’t it have been to Narcissa?

Fortunately for her, she did find reprieve on the first floor, as it was only Narcissa in the living room, too involved with a book to do anything more than nod good morning, and so Hermione went to the kitchen for another day of basic food. Her shock was palpable at finding the fridge full of recently purchased food, along with a note on the counter. 

_Auror business. Will return eventually. Don’t do anything stupid. Keep your eyes and ears open at all times_. 

Short and to the point, lacking any sign off. Hermione crumbled it up and used magic to light it on fire, figuring its what Moody would have wanted, even if the note revealed nothing. 

She got started on breakfast, trying to fend off Andromeda from adding the weirdest things possible to their pancakes, before Narcissa joined in. Though Bellatrix slept through breakfast, when she eventually shuffled down the stairs in the early afternoon, hair wet and spiky from a recent shower, she nodded to Hermione and stole a piece of banana from her sister, and the four of them spent an afternoon in easy, comfortable peace. 

The rest of the vacation was relatively uneventful, as Bellatrix was no longer hostile and rude to the others, and joined them for food, though she did not partake in helping to cook anything. She did hang around in the kitchen watching them prepare things, occasionally throwing in her opinion on how something looked or smelled (“That looks absolutely vile”, “That smells like our Uncle Charis”), and were always silenced by Andromeda threatening to throw food, Narcissa warning her to behave, or Hermione and her getting into a (somewhat) playful argument with one another. 

Before they knew it, the holiday came to an end, and the four of them had to straighten up their borrowed rooms and pack their meager belongings, though they had not seen Moody since Christmas night. He did show up on the day they were set to leave the safe house to go to King’s Cross to board the train back to school. He looked rough, with various small cuts across his face, a deeper one covering the bridge of his nose, and a partially healed black eye. His clothing was travel worn, torn and ruined in some parts, and Hermione wondered what sort of battle he had gotten into with whatever target the Aurors were after. Was it one of Voldemort’s wizards, or someone completely unrelated? No one had said anything to the four of them about Bellatrix’s provided information helping to capture anyone, but Hermione knew that wasn’t unusual for the Order- they tended to keep the information to themselves. 

But he was there now, leaning against the wall of the front door when they all walked down with their bags that morning. 

“I’ve spoken with Dumbledore,” he said by way of greeting, “regarding how Cygnus Black could possibly interfere with your schooling.” 

That got all of their attention immediately. It was a topic they had all stressed over during this time, something at the back of their minds every day. 

“He has assured me that, while it is within Black’s power to pull Narcissa and Andromeda from Hogwarts, it would not be an easy task. It is something he would have to take up with the Ministry of Magic and the school’s governors. It isn’t often that students are removed form Hogwarts halfway through the year. More than likely, despite his probable rage at Bellatrix leaving on Christmas Eve, Dumbledore does not believe he would go as far as to do that.” 

That was something, at least, and Hermione looked to Bellatrix to watch the subtle relief she showed at hearing those words- her shoulders relaxed just a fraction, her hands uncurled. 

“I don’t think I need to remind the four of you to keep your mouths shut about being here. Dumbledore trusts you with the location of this house, and therefore I am as well.” He looked at them all, finally settling on Hermione. “There will be many more things to discuss in upcoming months, but I suspect we will be seeing one another soon enough. Until then, remember to maintain a constant vigilance, and keep your wits about you.” 

The only sort of goodbye Hermione figured they would get, and they all nodded their agreement, though Bellatrix did have a few choice words to say to the man, as the two of them had hardly gotten along during their time together, but everyone else merely ignored her. A moment later, Hermione was grabbing Andromeda’s hand while Narcissa took Bellatrix’s, and the four of them apparated away to King’s Cross Station. 

Shortly afterward, it was a thing of luck they were able to get an empty cabin once on the train, though Andromeda did have to leave them for Prefect duties for the first while of the trip. Not that it mattered, as Bellatrix and Fatty spent that time in and out of sleep, occasionally waking up whenever the train became too loud or too bumpy, while Narcissa continued to read a book Hermione had seen her have often, and Hermione herself read ahead on the next weeks lessons for a class. The time passed easily, and before they knew it the sun had set and the train was growing ever darker.

When Andromeda returned to the cabin and sealed the door shut behind her, they all knew they needed to have a very serious conversation, one they’d all pushed off during the holidays. 

It was Narcissa who asked first. “What is going to happen when we get there?”

“We have to pretend like nothing happened. If anyone asked, we stayed the whole two weeks at Black Manor, played Quidditch, and did our assignments. It was simple and boring,” Hermione said, frowning as she spoke. “We need to protect the Order, that’s nonnegotiable- you heard Moody. No one can know about them.” 

“And Rod and Rabastan?” Andromeda now, looking at Bellatrix as she spoke, all of them wanting to gauge the oldest girl’s reaction. “Rod knows the truth, and most likely would have told Rabastan too.” 

“I’ll take care of them,” Bellatrix said flatly, her eyes dull and her posture nonchalant. 

Oh, Hermione had a very, very bad feeling about that statement. Coming from anyone else, it could have been interpreted as Bellatrix just going to talk to the guys to make sure they stay quiet, though they all knew that wouldn’t work. However, Hermione knew Bellatrix, and knew that would not be the path taken. She almost didn’t want to ask though, if only to keep the innocent idea still a possibility. Unfortunately for her, Andromeda asked for clarification. 

Bellatrix said, entirely serious, “I’m going to kill them.” 

That was exactly what Hermione was afraid of. 

Sure, she had managed to get Bellatrix to abandon Voldemort’s cause, had even gotten her to share information to Moody to help the Order, which meant that the future was already probably most likely saved, _but_ , how did Hermione know what things could change that? 

Who was to say that if Bellatrix did actually murder Rodolphus and Rabastan, she didn’t eventually find her way back to Voldemort and his army? She would have already been a killer by then, so what difference would it make? 

“You cannot kill them,” Hermione said strictly, her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth pulled into a frown. 

Bellatrix just blinked at her. “Watch me.” 

“Bella, we need to remain as inconspicuous as possible right now, while everything is still being figured out. You murdering two Death Eaters from a very prominent pure-blooded family, is not inconspicuous.” 

“What need is there to be inconspicuous?” Narcissa countered suddenly. “It isn’t as if Bella would do it on Hogwarts grounds, or around others. The only people who would think we would have anything to do with it would be the Dark Lord, our parents, and Dumbledore. As far as anyone else is aware of, we have no connection to them outside of Bella’s friendship to Rodolphus.” 

Hermione closed her eyes as she sighed, knowing this conversation would be as painful as pulling teeth, especially now that Narcissa was on Bellatrix’s side. She forgot sometimes, how alike the eldest and youngest Black daughters were. Andromeda might have been Bellatrix’s when it came to physical appearance and temperament, but it was like looking at a mirrored imagine when ways of thinking were taking into account. Narcissa most likely was the one to share similar thoughts to Bellatrix, more so than Andromeda ever would. 

It shouldn't have come as a surprise that Narcissa viewed Rodolphus the same way Bellatrix did, except now Hermione needed to argue against both of them to make sure Bellatrix didn’t commit any murders while at Hogwarts. The last thing any of them needed was the girl being sent to Azkaban _now_. 

“Like you said, Narcissa, Voldemort would know if we did something to Rodolphus. There is no way him or Dolohov said nothing about us in the hall at Black Manor. How would it look if Rodolphus was killed when we all got back together at Hogwarts, so soon after they would have told their lord about Bellatrix’s betrayal?” Hermione countered, thinking of all the ways their deaths would cause them too many problems. Problems they didn’t have the time or skill to handle, not right now. “We need to remain as uninteresting as possible to all of them. Voldemort can’t be happy Bellatrix backed out of the initiation and is now giving information to our side.” She made sure her voice was as low as possible. “The longer we can stay out of his radar following her defection, the better. Trust me.” 

“Hermione is right, we all know it,” Andromeda sighed, head leaned back against the car’s wall, eyes half closed from tiredness. “Rodolphus has to live, unfortunately. At least for right now. Maybe Bella can kill him later,” she shrugged, slowly blinking at all of them. “For now, he has to live.” 

They didn’t have time to finish the argument as the train rolled to a stop at Hogsmeade, and everything immediately became chaotic as all the students were excited to exit the train and return to the castle. Andromeda, having been too caught up in the conversation, rushed to handle her duties once more as the other three grabbed their things and filed into the line of bustling students to get to the carriages and the Great Hall, knowing a very good meal would be had soon. 

As they all moved, Hermione's mind wouldn’t let her not think of Bellatrix so easily claiming she was going to kill Rodolphus and Rabastan. She said it without any sort of hesitation, remorse completely lacking in all of her features as she stared them all down. Hermione didn’t doubt the girl for a minute. She knew that if it truly came down it, there was not a single person Bellatrix wouldn’t kill if it meant protecting Andromeda and Narcissa. 

Unfortunately, that wasn’t a very comforting thought, and it continued to plague her as they entered a carriage, rode to the school, and all shuffled into the Hall for another welcome back feast. 

“Welcome back, I do hope everyone had the most enjoyable holidays,” Dumbledore began his speech, standing at the head of the Great Hall as always. “Professor Kettleburn has asked that I make the following announcement, primarily to the seventh years involved in his Care of Magical Creatures course, but also as a broad announcement for all students to keep their eyes out.” That created a few wondering whispers with the students as Dumbledore continued with, “It seems, right before the start of break, we lost one of the Brownies the course was studying. If anyone has any idea of the creatures whereabouts, please see Professor Kettleburn.” A long look in the direction of Hermione and Bellatrix, a barely there hint of a smile on his face. “That is all. Enjoy the feast!” 

Food immediately appeared on the tables courtesy of the elves working hard down below. They all rushed to dig in, Hermione and then smiling to themselves at the mention of Fatty, who they would be returning to the shed tonight, after hours. Andromeda would be using her powers at Prefect to sneak them out of the castle so they could all say their goodbyes. Bellatrix hadn't said much about it, but it was obvious the girl was not pleased with this decision. 

It wasn’t too long into the meal that Steve moved to sit beside Hermione, a pleased grin on his handsome face. “Hello, Potter,” he said, giving a similar greeting to Bellatrix and her sisters as he nodded to them. “I just talked to Sasha Caron.” The Slytherin player Hermione had replaced, the one who took a bludger to the head. “As it seems, her parents do not wish for her to continue playing this year. They would rather her sit on the bench for the semester and resume her position next year.” 

With all the of recent events taking place over the last two weeks, Hermione hadn’t had much time to process that she was most likely not going to be playing Quidditch once they returned to Hogwarts. It was such a trivial thing to stress over when compared to Death Eater initiations, Rodolphus and Antonin Dolohov threatening them, Andy and Narcissa possibly being removed from the school... she had no time for anything else. But now- now, Steve was sitting before her, telling her she would be continuing the rest of the season, and she couldn’t help but smile widely at the admission. 

“I’m sure Victoria won’t mind playing chaser a bit longer, if you’re still interesting in being on the team?” Steve asked, the tone of his voice suggesting he knew exactly how Hermione felt about remaining on the team, and was now just teasing her. 

“Of course I’m interested!” Hermione couldn't help but exclaim loudly, gaining the attention of those sitting around them, and she smiled sheepishly. “I’d love to keep playing, Steve.” 

“Well thank Merlin,” he laughed, “We didn’t have a spare player and would have to forfeit had you said no. And then who would deal with B pouting so much?” 

Bellatrix looked up at the sound of her nickname, scowling in their direction, and Hermione couldn’t help but say, if only to tease Bellatrix that bit more, “She is unusually pouty for someone supposedly so tough, hm?”

The affronted look the dark witch sent them both held a promise of violence if they continued, the look only making Hermione and Steve laugh as the Quidditch captain held his hands up good-naturedly. “I'm out before she turns her wand on me. You’re the the best Bella-wrangler we have, so I leave this in your capable hands. By the way, practice starts up in two days.” 

With that he left, throwing a wave to the younger two Blacks as Bellatrix scowled at his retreating form, turning quickly to Hermione and snapping out, “You’re dead, _Potter_.” 

For some reason, Bellatrix’s tone of voice just had Hermione blushing, coughing part of her drink back up her throat and making her choke on it slightly, her cheeks burning much too fiercely for any sort of logical reason right tin that moment. The sight made Bellatrix laugh, a genuine sound that just made Hermione’s blush that much worse as she forced herself to look at her plate and finish her meal, not looking back up as she knew she’d find Bellatrix, cocky and grinning, watching her. 

* * *

“Bella.” Hermione caught the older girl in the hallway, coming up and grabbing her arm to keep her still. “We need to talk,” she said as she pulled Bellatrix away from the busy cluster of all the students returning to their dorms. Hermione guided her into an empty classroom, making sure the door was closed behind them before they started talking. 

“Your talks tend to end with you either confessing secrets, threatening me with your wand, or screaming at me,” Bellatrix said, the corner of her mouth tilted upward. “But by all means, Granger.” 

“You aren’t... serious about Rodolphus and Rabastan, are you?” Hermione had to ask, had to know for certain that Bellatrix wouldn’t try to do anything stupid if she thought it would keep them all safe. 

The shrug Bellatrix gave was not reassuring in the slightest. “Do you trust Dumbledore to handle this?”

Yes. No. Hermione didn’t know. Dumbledore had a way of.... letting things play out, to whatever end. “Dumbledore will do whatever he believes is best at the time.” Not an answer, not really, but it was the only truthful one she could give, and she was tired of lying to Bellatrix. 

“I am not risking my sisters’ lives over him doing whatever he ‘believes it right’ in whatever moment. Rodolphus is not going to be as nice as to offer letting Andy and Cissy leave the next time we face him, not now that he knows I am on your side. Think whatever you want of him, but do not forget that he is an exceptionally talented dueler, and if Dolohov is with him next time? They will not stand a chance.” Bellatrix’s voice was hard, unrelenting and unforgiving as she glared at Hermione. 

“I’m not asking you to risk their lives right now, Bellatrix. I am asking you to not do anything rash or stupid while we are at Hogwarts. Rodolphus is smart, you know that, he wouldn’t try anything under Dumbledore’s nose. He’ll wait until we are finished this year before he tries anything- _if_ he tries anything.” 

Bellatrix took the time to look around the classroom, taking in the same walls and features they’ve seen for the past seven years, if only to delay her response and drive Hermione that much more annoyed and stressed. Finally, she turned back to her, a scowl in place. “I was supposed to marry him, you know,” she said, completely unexpectedly, watching the way Hermione’s eyes widened immediately, her cheeks getting darker, all out of her control. “There was no formal declaration or anything, not yet, but my parents had been in talk with his, and were most likely looking to have us wed by the end of summer.” 

None of this was exactly news to Hermione, as they were married in the future, had gone to Azkaban for torturing Neville’s parents together, but now... Hermione had never been quite able to figure out what exactly they were to one another yet. Friends definitely, but anything more.. Bellatrix had always been so elusive in what was going on in every aspect in her life. Somehow though, hearing Bellatrix confirm they were something together made a small, uncontrollable part of Hermione tighten and seethe with jealousy, and she didn’t know what to do about that. 

“I’m telling you that only so you will understand me when I say I know Rodolphus Lestrange very well. And his brother. So you will believe it when it is not a matter of _if_ he tries anything, but _when_. And I will not let my sisters be harmed because you are afraid of drawing attention to us. That is the possibility here, not their lives.” 

Hermione needed to get control of the situation again, needed to steer them away before Bellatrix truly did something stupid. “Rodolphus is a terrible person, he will be an even worse person later in life, and I do believe the world would be a better place if he were dead. My very good friend would have a much better life if Rodolphus dies now. But there are too many things we can’t risk right now. Please, Bella, think this through before you act.” 

“Oh, I’ve thought everything through, and exactly how I’m going to kill him. It’ll be a very cathartic event, and will make all of us that much happier.” 

She was insane. Hermione took back ever thinking this Bellatrix wasn’t crazy. 

“I’m doing it.” 

“Please don’t.” 

“I’m-”

“Please, Bella. Please.” Apparently, Hermione was not above begging in this scenario, not above doing whatever it took to make sure Bellatrix didn’t ruin this for all of them. “Wait. That is all I am asking. If you are so dead set on him dying... just wait, please. We will keep Andy and Narcissa safe, I promise you that. But you can’t protect them if you’re in Azkaban for his death.” 

It was quiet for some time after that, Bellatrix merely staring at Hermione with an unreadable expression on her pale and gorgeous face. At one point she stuck her tongue out to wet her lips, and Hermione couldn’t help but track the movement, even as Bellatrix grinned wickedly at that. But she did say, “He dies eventually.” 

Not truly what Hermione wanted, but she would take it for now, would accept that deal if it meant keeping them safe in the present and putting off having to deal with it later. Hopefully much later. 

“Now leave me alone,” Bellatrix said, her voice much less hostile than it would have been months ago, a slightly pleasant grin on her face as she moved away from Hermione and left the room, going to do whatever it was she got up to by herself. Most likely terrorizing the first years. Hermione couldn’t help but smile at the thought, even as she shook her head and began making her way to the Slytherin common room, surprisingly excited to see her other classmates every two weeks away. 

Later that night found Hermione with Andromeda and Bellatrix, Narcissa having claimed no interest in sneaking the Brownie back into the shed, and Andromeda only partaking as they could use the excuse of her being a Prefect to keep them away from prying eyes. 

“Fatty, I can’t say it was a pleasure, but... you know,” Andromeda patted the Brownie’s head, only to be swatted at by his paw, to which she scoffed and said to them, “I’ll be waiting outside,” as she quickly left. 

“Are you okay?” Hermione asked slowly, having noticed that Bellatrix had been uncharacteristically quiet, just staring at Fatty as he became reacquainted with his nest. 

“Fine,” Bellatrix said flatly, reaching out to gently swipe at his paw, earning a gentle squeak in return. “Why does he need to go back?” She finally huffed. “He liked living with us.” 

He liked torturing the elves and bothering them, more likely. Hermione didn’t voice that out loud, of course. Instead she said, “He belongs with the others like him. Besides, he was a terrible cleaner.” Kettleburn had said their species was meant to clean. The fat Brownie either defied that stereotype, or their professor needed to correct his information. 

“He was above such lowly work.” Bellatrix’s voice was rough, low and quiet, as she took his paw in her hand and said, “Go kick ass and cause problems out in the wild, Fatty.” She slid a small pile of food into his nest that he immediately attacked, not sparing either of them a second glance. 

Hermione held back her huff of laughter as Bellatrix scowled at the creature, giving him one last look before she turned on her heels and marched out of the shed, leaving the brunette quick to follow, rushing out to keep up with the other two girls as they began the slow walk back to the castle. 

The atmosphere around them was oddly peaceful, despite the heart breaking event of leaving Fatty taking place moments before. Andromeda was farther ahead of them, giving them the slightest feeling of privacy as they walked beside one another, even though none of them had talked much since leaving the shed. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Bellatrix said slowly, her voice unusually soft and hesitant. “I can't get your arm out of my mind.” 

That had Hermione pause in her walking, turning to face the other girl head on, her eyebrows furrowed together. Bellatrix stopped as well, her gaze hard and unflinching even as her lip was sucked between her teeth.

The darker witch said, very quickly, as if rushing to get the words out before she changed her mind, “I was to do a muggle hunt on Christmas Eve.” Her shoulders were tensed as she spoke, her jaw clenched. “The Dark Lord felt I did something stupid before, that made me look weak. This _birthday gift_ was supposed to redeem me.” 

A _muggle hunt_? Hermione’s skin crawled at just the thought of what that would entail, of the torture and violence those poor muggles would experience at the hands of such sycophants. And to picture Bellatrix there, chasing down people for their own amusement. It made her want to vomit, but she fought to keep her face blank, if only not to ruin this rare moment of honesty and openness with Bellatrix, who always kept things to tightly locked up.

“When... when did you know about this?” Hermione was hesitant to want to know the answer. For Bellatrix had known what she was getting into at this party. Did Andromeda and Narcissa know as well? Their father would have sent them all upstairs before it happened, but had they been informed prior? 

Bellatrix kicked a small rock a few feet ahead of them, and Hermione knew enough about the girl to know she was buying time, most likely deciding what all to tell Hermione. “The night you healed my face... that was the night I did something stupid, and the bruises you saw were punishment for that.”

When Hermione had been in the common room in the middle of the night and had taken Bellatrix by surprise when she also entered. At the time, the dark witch had been bruised and battered, her mouth swollen, finger shaped bruises on her wrists and biceps, blood on her face. Hermione had healed her, and the next morning Bellatrix had demanded Andromeda no longer be friends with her. Never once had Hermione asked where the injuries had come from, just had offered to heal (after arguing) and they went about their lives pretending Hermione didn’t know, just as they did about the scars.

“Then the night Hogsmeade was attacked, I got a letter the next morning. From my father, saying: _Perhaps if you had not embarrassed our family in front of our Lord you would have been invited to join the fun. Your sister’s injury is due to your failure, Bellatrix_.” How often had she read it, to have it so ingrained into her memory, she could recall it perfectly even after all these weeks? How long had she sat there and read it, over and over again, blaming herself for Andromeda’s injury? “My fuck up that night could have cost Andromeda her life and-” 

A sound that very well could have been a sob had it come from anyone else escaped Bellatrix’s mouth, but her eyes were still clear, and she sucked in a deep breath to regain herself. When she started talking again, she also started walking, a slow unhurried pace, despite them no longer having Andromeda in sight. It didn’t matter, they’d figure out a way back in anyway.

“I wasn’t told about Hogsmeade because of that, but the Dark Lord said I could redeem myself to him during the muggle hunt on my birthday. After I captured, tortured, and killed a muggle, I’d receive my mark, and well-” Bellatrix waved a hand at nothing. “I suppose you know how that storyline would then go.”

Hermione’s throat was dry, her heart racing as she watched the other girl. This... was nothing like what her mind would have conjured about an initiating for the Death Eaters. Even knowing how digesting, bigoted they were, how little they valued any life that wasn’t a pureblooded witch, she never would have guessed this if she was told to. “I want to ask if you truly would have taken part in that vile hunt, but I guess I do know how that story goes.”

“I was given the option, months before I met you. My father got word that the Dark Lord was interested in me.” History (future-history, that is) told Hermione that Bellatrix’s parents never joined Voldemort, but their beliefs aligned with Britain’s darkest wizard. If Cygnus had heard his daughter was wanted for such a cause, he probably would have celebrated. “My father told me about it, and said it was an offer our family would not be refused. _One_ of us would be joining his ranks.” A pause, a slight wobbling of a bottom lip. “Then he said if I didn’t want to pledge myself to the Dark Lord- fine. I didn’t need to. He had spares.”

Spares. _Spares_. To refer to his own children as spares, and to use them as leverage against Bellatrix, knowing how much she treasured and protecting her younger sisters. The more Hermione learned of Cygnus Black, the more she wished he would suffer a long, painful death.

This conversation had to be hurting Bellatrix emotionally, to recall of the information she had so very clearly buried deep within herself, but she pressed on, showing no more signs of stress. “The Dark Lord is not a stupid man, and he knew having the support of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black would be a considerable ally. If he couldn’t have me, he would have one of them.” 

The thought of Andromeda, of reckless, loving, wild-hearted Andromeda, sworn to serve Voldemort... even of Narcissa, of the girl with quiet steel in her heart who loved to read, who, despite her young age, was the one to keep her two sisters from killing one another during a stupid fight.... 

Hermione had been wrong. Bellatrix’s obsession to her Dark Lord had not been born from devotion, but from necessity. An impossible decision made to keep the sisters she so loved safe.

“There is to no end that I would not go for my sisters. Nothing I would not do to myself or others to keep the two of them safe. I would burn this whole country down and everyone in it if I needed to.” “If the cost of keeping them safe is ruining my soul, is killing muggles, well... I would rip my soul into a thousand pieces.”

It would end up being her downfall, in the end. This sacrifice to the two people she loved more than anything. Andromeda leaves this life behind, runs off with Ted and gets branded a blood-traitor. Narcissa stands by her husband when he becomes a Death Eaters. Bellatrix would have drove herself to insanity for nothing. 

“Look down upon me all you want,” Bellatrix kept talking. “But I will never apologize for that.” 

In another life, Hermione might have. She might have walked away from anyway willing to kill innocents, but now it only made her heart clench, made her appreciate and be in awe of Bellatrix’s strength that much more. With that in mind, she didn’t let herself reconsider the action before she was slipping her hand into Bellatrix’s, squeezing it tight once, a silent, _I’m here, I understand_. 

Bellatrix understood the action, but still she said, “I won’t apologize for doing whatever it takes to keep them safe, but... I do not think doing that to your arm had any connection to them, did it?” 

Hermione didn’t want to think about that Bellatrix doing that to her, not now, but she forced her mind to allow it, forced herself to recall the look in that Bellatrix’s eyes as she was pinned to the ground. 

“Narcissa was there with you, but I can’t speak of what your relationship is like with you. I’m tortured because you think I have information about something very important to the war.” Hermione saw the devastation on Bellatrix’s pale face, the sight so unusual and not meant to be there, that she added quickly, “ _Some_ part of your dedication to finding out that information could be wanting to protect your family, I don’t know. Like I told you, you spend so many years in Azkaban, I have no idea the sort of relationship you have with her.” 

“Like I said, I would do anything to protect them, but... I never thought I’d go as far as to purposefully scar someone like that. I told myself that I wouldn’t do that to someone, not when-” 

She cut herself off, but her ruined back still flashed into Hermione’s mind, exactly as she knew it flashed into Bellatrix’s, and knew that would be the reason why she felt as such. 

“Then I suppose I should... apologize,” the words sounded so foreign coming from Bellatrix, from the girl that so unabashedly was herself and never stopped to consider how that would impact others, save for her sisters. “For so many things. But mainly for that, and also how I treated you when you first got here, and then how I reacted when you finally told me the truth.” 

This was progress, a testament to the development of their relationship that Bellatrix felt any sort of compulsion at all to apologize, or to even acknowledge all the wrongdoings in her life. 

“When my professor first brought up this mission,” Hermione began to confess slowly, feeling the need to tell something of her own after Bellatrix had made herself so unusually vulnerable. “I wanted to say no. Every part of me was terrified to see you, to be completely honest, even though it would be teenage you, and not a crazed Death Eater. But, I said yes. And I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to my friends before my professor said I had to leave. So I risked everything to come here, and I hated you. I hated you so much. It was.... impossible for me to separate this you and that you, and I didn’t even bother to try. But I became friends with Andromeda, and then you and I- well, it then became impossible for me to not like you. And it _confused_ me, how I felt about you here and how I felt about you there. But... I don’t see any of my world’s you when I’m with you. Sure, you’re a stubborn ass,” she cracked a smile, and dodged the shoulder Bellatrix tried to hit her with, “but I wouldn’t change a single thing about you. You don’t need to apologize for scarring my arm because you didn’t do it. I’ll accept the apologies for you being so volatile when we first met though.” 

Bellatrix laughed, light and open and slightly watery, her hand just brushing the back of Hermione’s as they moved. 

Hermione continued with, ignoring the way her heart stuttered at the contact, “I will never fault you for protecting your sisters, Bella. Never. Me and my friends have all done questionable things to protect one another. I even set a professor’s robes on fire once.” At the sight of Bellatrix’s intrigued look, and how she opened her mouth to question it, Hermione hurriedly spoke over her. “Like I said, I don’t know if your actions in the future are to protect Andy and Narcissa, but I do now know that’s how it started, and I will never blame you for carrying all of this weight in the desperate hope to keep them safe. It’s a very strong thing to protect the ones we love.” 

They made their way into the castle and didn't say another thing as they quietly snuck through the halls back to Slytherin’s common room and into their dorm. 

* * *

After the long talk with Bellatrix and _finally_ getting some insight on her life, things moved rather quickly at Hogwarts. January eased into February, the weather just as cold and unforgiving as ever, and made Quidditch practice and games that much more brutal. Hermione finished each one sweaty on the parts of her body heavily laden with clothing, and frozen to the bone everywhere else. Bellatrix, it seemed, could complain about everything in life that didn’t have to do with Quidditch (unless they were losing) and seemed to step off the field each time perfectly fine, hardly winded even with her hard and rough play style.

Hermione wouldn’t complain though, not when she was so relieved to still be on the team. Even though the cost had been a girl being injured for her to be placed here, she was ever so thankful that the original chaser she was set to replace had decided to finish the year off sports free, and so Hermione would spend the rest of her time at Hogwarts competing for the championship title with the rest of her friends.

In fact, the most interesting thing to even happen to them all over the next nearly two months was Andromeda taking points away from Slytherin when she found a bunch of fourth years out of bed late at night. Bellatrix had been furious, yelling at Andromeda for taking points from their house when they were so closely tied for first place, every point would count. The result ended up both of them screaming at the other until Andromeda decided it would be much more worth it to tackle Bellatrix in the common room, in front of nearly the entire house.

Narcissa had not been happy at that, and then spent the next thirty minutes yelling at both of them for being so stupid and aggressive. Every time Bellatrix tried to cut herself off to remind her that Andromeda was costing them points, Narcissa would just speak louder, refusing to give in to the idiocy. When that had finished, Bellatrix sought Hermione out to rant to her for a while as they walked the castle grounds together.

That had also been happening more and more as the days went by- the two of them hanging out one on one. It was nice now, nicer than it had ever been before, as Hermione no longer had the weight of her lies hanging over her head, reminding her that she was faking everything every time she enjoyed Bellatrix’s laugh, smile, anything. But now she was free to do so (and did often), as they had taken to going for walkings or finding empty classrooms to study nearly every day.

Today was one such day, both of them in an empty room on the fourth floor once classes had finished. Hermione was working on a History of Magic essay, or trying to, as Bellatrix had at some point decided to forgo any sort of homework, and was now entertaining herself by shooting harmless sparks at Hermione. They would all disintegrate before they reached her, but it was working to aggravate her, which was undoubtedly Bellatrix’s goal.

“Are you five?” Hermione couldn’t help but snap when one of the sparks nearly reached the parchment she’s spent the last hour writing on. 

“Perhaps,” comes Bellatrix’s response, followed by a slight chuckle and another spark, green this time. “Is that one of the things you enjoy about me, Granger? My possible childish personality?”

“It’s not a possible personality. You are childish,” Hermione grumbled, ignoring the slight heat in her cheeks at Bellatrix’s statement. 

This had also been happening more and more- sort of flirting, Hermione definitely blushing. Sometimes Bellatrix made fun of that, which made it worse, and other times she would say nothing about it, but Hermione always saw the small, pleased smile on the dark witch’s face.

Hermione wouldn’t have been able to say who started it, which one them took that step after Bellatrix had so hatefully decreed that she regretted everything that transpired between them before Hermione told her secrets. Somehow, one of them had started it up, more so than before, when Bellatrix had been subtle, sometimes mocking in how she did it, and Hermione had been hesitant. Now though, Bellatrix didn’t make any sort of effort to pretend she wasn’t flirting, and Hermione never knew what to think of it.

“You’re going to Hogsmeade this weekend, yes?” Bellatrix changed the subject, moving until she was closer to Hermione now and sitting on the desk, nearly on top of the parchment. She pointedly ignored Hermione’s annoyed looked. “Well?”

“I am.” 

“Come to the beach with me afterwards.” 

They hadn’t been back to the beach since they were drunk and kissed for the first time. It felt like years ago, when in reality in had only been a few months. The entire Slytherin team was there, and yet none of them had noticed Hermione and Bellatrix in their own world, kissing in the middle of Black Lake as if their lives depended on it.

Hermione didn’t even need to think on it, to hesitate, before she was breathing out, “Okay, yes, of course.” 

The smile Bellatrix gave her at the agreement was more than enough to get her to forget how much the girl had ruined studying for the day and was currently sitting on half of her unfinished essay.


	16. XVI

It was the day of the Hogsmeade outing, and all Hermione could think of was Bellatrix.

The offer of going to the lake together had been on her mind since Bellatrix asked, and now that it was the day of, she could focus on nothing else. Not even the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, where Slytherin desperately needed Gryffindor to lose, and cheered madly every time Hufflepuff scored. Hermione barely reacted to any of it, too caught up in her own world, to the point that she was even able to block out Andromeda’s teasing. She completely missed Gryffindor catching the Snitch and winning, bringing them that much closer to overtaking Slytherin for second place. It brought the two teams, as well as Ravenclaw who still held first, very close together in terms of points, and the championship very well could still go to any of them.

It had everyone on edge once the match ended, and still Hermione thought little of any of it.

And had no time to think of it again as a letter arrived for her to meet with Dumbledore in his office as soon as possible. She quickly said goodbye to her friends to make the short trip to the gargoyle, using the password their headmaster provided to get up the stairs, and found the old man at his desk once more, a thing of tea sitting on the top.

Hermione had not had a conversation with the man since that night she raced here on Christmas Eve, desperate to save Bellatrix and damn near willing to agree to anything to accomplish that. But now he sat before her, arms on either side of his wide chair, smiling at her.

“I do believe it is time for us to discuss a matter of the utmost importance,” he began, his voice soft and raspy as ever. “Tea? Biscuit?” 

“No, thank you,” Hermione said with a frown, silently running through all of the things they could possibly have to talk about right now. Most obviously would be Bellatrix, but they had been back for nearly two months and he had never tried to discuss any of the things Bella told Moody, so it didn’t make sense for him to do so now. 

“I suppose you would prefer I just come out with whatever this is about?” Dumbledore asked, not unkindly, but Hermione still blushed anyway, not realizing her face must have given away her thoughts. “That is reasonable, and I do not think this is a topic that we should toy around with.” 

_Get it out, just say it_ , Hermione thought, her heart racing slightly as her mind kept coming up with the most outrageous possibilities.

“When you arrived here back in September, I asked Professor McGonagall to assist me in finding a way to return you to your correct time period when the situation arose.” 

Oh.

Oh my-

Hermione hadn’t even... she hadn’t... there was nothing-

“It took sometime, as you can see, however we do believe Professor McGonagall has come across a promising spell,” Dumbledore continued when Hermione failed to respond. 

But how could she answer right now? For all these months, that thought has weighed in the back of her mind, keeping her up at night, a small voice saying she would never find her way back to her friends in 1998.

“You were sent here to ensure Miss Black is dissuade from joining Lord Voldemort’s cause. A job which you did complete, admirably, I should add. Not only has Bellatrix turned from Voldemort, but she has also provided the Order with a list of names of Death Eaters. Information we would not have been able to obtain otherwise.” 

The headmaster was just talking as if he hadn’t dropped the biggest bombshell onto Hermione’s plans as possible. Only minutes prior she was obsessing over meeting Bellatrix at the lake and all of the implications of what that meant, and now here she was, being told there was a way for her to return home now.

But what of her home here? Her friends? Andromeda, Narcissa, everyone on Quidditch, Daniel?

Bellatrix?

Hermione would leave here, leave the relationships she's built and the life she’s created, to go back to what? A war she would no longer have much clue what was happening in. The date would be correct, but would Voldemort’s army still be approaching within hours? How much would have changed if he didn’t have Bellatrix as his lieutenant?

The prospect of seeing Harry and Ron again, Ginny and Luna and Neville, all of the Weasleys...

Dark brown eyes and untamable hair flashed into her mind, followed immediately by the wicked grin Bellatrix always had, the mocking way she talked to Hermione, how she always knew the quickest ways to get her riled up.

Absent-mindedly, Hermione twiddled with the necklace around her neck as the dark eyes in her mind became a fraction bigger, the hair that much lighter, but they too changed to an icy blue, the hair lighter still until it became strikingly blonde.

A flat piece of parchment was placed on the desk between them, and Hermione only had to look for a second to recognize the handwriting. She’s seen it for the last seven years in every Transfiguration class, and could already picture McGonagall meticulously copying the spell and steps from whatever ancient book she discovered it in.

“It is yours to do with as you see fit.” 

Hermione didn’t reach for it.

This is what she’s been waiting for, this is what she’s dreamt of since first arriving here.

So why wouldn't her brain tell her arm to grab it?

Dumbledore noticed it, as he noticed all things. “There are many things we must do in life that are hard, Hermione. You have already done one such thing in agreeing to come back thirty years into the past, and now it is time for you to decide what to do once more.” 

Hermione’s throat was dry, her voice rough, as she choked out, “Thank you.” Still, her hands stayed by her side, her fists tightly clenched.

“I must advise, however, should you choose to stay, it will be of the utmost difficulty to avoid running into your younger self.” She knew that, knew what would happen if she ever met young her. That did nothing to quell the sparkle in Dumbledore’s eyes as he added, “It will be the utmost difficult, but not impossible. Please keep in mind, you will always have a home here.” 

The words made her throat constrict even more, her lip sucked between her teeth, and she had to fight back the tears that wanted to spring forth into her eyes. She knew Dumbledore did not mean Hogwarts in general, not the Hogwarts of her time, but here, now, in this Hogwarts with these people. She merely said, “Thank you,” once more, and forced her arm to move, forced her hand to clench around the smooth parchment. 

“I’m sure there are people waiting for you to join them at Hogsmeade. Enjoy your afternoon, and do take your time regarding the spell. You would not want to regret the decision you make.” With that, Dumbledore stood from his desk, and with a nod to Hermione, walked further into his office, off to do whatever it was he does when not giving cryptic advice to students. 

As Hermione stood up as well to leave the office and find her friends, her mind once more went back to Bellatrix, but this time it had nothing to do with what was in store for them at the lake. 

* * *

“Are you alright? Why do you look so pale?” Andromeda frowned as Hermione finally caught up to them, coming to a stop beside all three Black sisters outside of Honeyduke’s. It was a positively surprising sight to see Ted in the mix as well, standing closely to Andromeda, and Bellatrix having nothing to say about it. 

“I’m fine,” Hermione lied, her tongue darting out to wet her dry lips. She couldn’t bring herself to mention any part of her conversation with Dumbledore, not when they were out in the open around so many people, and not when Bellatrix was staring at her in a way that almost looked concerned. 

They had plans soon, Hermione had to remind herself, use the fact to ground her to this, and think nothing of the spell folded into her robes. She wouldn’t ruin whatever Bellatrix wanted to do at the lake with this, not right now.

“What’s in the bags?” Hermione jerked her head to the bags hanging from Andromeda and Ted’s hands, heavy looking and filled to the brim. “Are those all candies?” 

“Not quite, though if you continue to judge I will not be sharing,” Andromeda huffed, scowling at Hermione. “Narcissa refused to carry her purchases, so some of this is her things as well.” 

A look to the blonde in the group, and she shrugged as if to say, _am_ I _supposed to carry it?_ , making Hermione laugh and some of the tension sticking to her bones ease. She fell in with them easily, walking beside Bellatrix who gave her one more long look before quickly getting into another pointless argument with Andromeda, this time about the Quidditch match they had all watched.

As the two sisters bickered back and forth, Hermione looked to Ted, finding him watching Andromeda with a found smile on his face before he caught her staring at him, and smiled at her as well.

“Entertaining, isn't it?” He asked, motioning to the two girls, whose voices had raised slightly, but their argument remained relatively playful, even as Andromeda said Bellatrix’s hair ‘made her look like she was constantly suffering from static shock’, and Bellatrix tried to shove her, only to be broken apart by Narcissa, of course. 

Hermione would miss all of this so much. “It really is,” she mumbled, her heart too heavy in her chest. Was she really ready to say goodbye to all of this? Even if she missed Harry and Ron every single day, would she not feel the same about the three girls before her? Would she not miss them so much? And how much worse would it be, to see the adult version of the three of them, thirty years down the line, and wonder what they thought of when they saw her? Would they have these memories as well, or would she fade from their mind with time, and when they looked to her now, they would only get an odd feeling of deja vu?

She didn’t want to think of it, not when this very well could be the last time they all had a trip to Hogsmeade together. She wanted to be in the present, enjoying every second with them all. Determined to do just that, Hermione shook herself out of her thoughts and joined into the argument with Andromeda and Bellatrix- taking Andromeda’s side, of course.

“She’s right, you know,” Hermione smiled as she spoke, knowing this would go right through Bellatrix. “Gryffindor deserved that win. They’re a better team. The best team, and house, actually.” 

Ted blinked in confusion at the statement, most likely wondering why Hermione would support Gryffindor, whereas the three girls rolled their eyes, Bellatrix adbmately auguring back that that was entirely preposterous.

“Don’t start a fight you cannot finish,” Bellatrix threatened, only relatively joking. 

“I’m just saying,” Hermione antagonized. “Gryffindor-” 

“I’m reconsidering going to the lake with you.” 

That shut Hermione up, but didn’t wipe the grin off of her face, which only grew as Bellatrix announced to the others the two of them would be leaving now. Andromeda yelled at their retreating backs for Hermione to watch out and make sure Bellatrix didn’t try to drown her.

* * *

The lake was thankfully empty of any others when Hermione and Bellatrix arrived (and that thought had Hermione pausing, as why did it matter if others were around or not? But something kept pushing her to want to be alone). They settled down near the spot where the Quidditch team had once passed around the bottles of firewhiskey, and Hermione hunkered down a bit more into the warmth of her robe to block out the chilly breeze.

Bellatrix sat the carton of chocolates she slipped from Andromeda’s bag down between them, not bothering to open them up yet as she stared out at the ocean, and Hermione couldn’t help but watch her.

“Let’s play a game,” she heard herself say, voice barely above a whisper. 

It was clearly loud enough for Bellatrix to hear, for she turned to look at Hermione curiously, one corner of her mouth crooked up in a way that typically meant she was about to say something mean.

“Two truths and a lie?” Hermione’s brain was scrambling to catch up to her mouth. Luckily she was never in short supply of thoughts.

“That sounds terribly muggle.” 

“Hush. The point is to see how well you know the other person. So you have to guess which ones are the truth and which ones are the lie. The more outrageous the lie, the easier it is to guess.” She had played this before as a kid, but never with her friends from Hogwarts. There was never any point, not when none of them kept anything from the others, and she knew everything there was to know about Ron and Harry. 

But Bellatrix was different, had always been different, and there was so much Hermione didn't know. Besides, Hermione would do about anything to distract herself from the parchment in her pocket. Anything to take her mind off the reality she wasn’t quite ready to face.

“Muggles clearly live very boring lives,” Bellatrix groaned, but then surprised Hermione by rolling her eyes and say, “Well? Say your lies and truths.” 

How entirely Bella... Hermione couldn’t help but laugh, but she obeyed, and began with, “I love to read, my favorite food is Sheppard’s pie, and my favorite color is orange.” When Bellatrix just blinked at her and said nothing, Hermione laughed again and said, “Now you tell me which one is the lie.”

“Your favorite food is steak and kidney pie,” Bellatrix said as if it were the most obvious thing in the entire world, eyebrows crinkled and looking at Hermione as if she were less than intelligent. “This is dumb,” she added, but sighed and said, “I am the brightest witch the Wizarding World has ever seen, there is no one better at dueling than me, and I like dogs.” 

Hermione didn’t even bother trying to hold in the soft chuckle at all of Bellatrix’s claims, laughing to the point that her body rocked and a bit of her tongue poked out between her face. By the time she finally got herself calmed down enough to explain, the affronted look on Bellatrix’s face just made her laugh again. Eventually, she was able to say, around a large smile, “I’m guessing you hate dogs then, but that isn’t how you play. Your first two are claims, not truthful statements. Anyone could claim to be the best witch.”

“Then they would be lying. I, however, am.” 

“I met my best friends when I was thirteen, my favorite book is 1984, and my birthday is in September.” Hermione didn’t bother to argue that Bellatrix’s weren’t truths. She knew in the girl’s mind that they absolutely were. Somehow the thought just made her smile more. 

Bellatrix had answered Hermione’s first round far too confidently, and so she had added things this turn that were sure to throw the witch off. Given that she had never mentioned when her birthday was, and Bellatrix would not know any muggle books, nor would she know much about Hermione’s life before coming to this time, any one of those things could be a lie. Good. That should knock the insufferable witch down a peg or two.

But no, of course Bellatrix would not do as was expected. “You didn’t meet your best friends at thirteen.”

“How do you-” 

Bellatrix just grinned, her skin a bit crinkled around the eyes. “I’m guessing eleven, as that’s when we started school. I think it’s you who isn’t that great at this game, Granger.”

“My mistake,” Hermione laughed again, and so the game continued, both of them going back and forth and even arguing over points they believed the other had lied about, which Bellatrix did so often. Of course, she refused to admit as much, and so refused to admit that Hermione was quite close to having guessed almost the same amount of lies as her. 

The longer they played, the heavier Hermione’s heart became, to the point that it was nearly unbearable. Bellatrix knew so much more about her than she ever would have figured. For so many months, the two of them had gone head to head quite violently, enough so that Hermione would have assumed Bellatrix pretended she didn't even exist unless they were directly arguing with the other. But this proved otherwise, as Bellatrix continued to guess what was a truth or lie based on things Hermione had never said, but Bellatrix would have had to watch her to pick up on.

It made her want to smile and cry all at the same time, and made the parchment in her pocket that much more of a focus in her mind.

The game was coming to an end, Hermione could tell, as they both took longer and longer to come up with more mundane things to say to the other, so Hermione finally closed her eyes and said her last three things, knowing it would stop the muggle pastime.

“I used to want to go to a muggle university in America before I found out I was a wizard, I have a cat named Crookshanks, and.... Dumbledore found a way to send me back to my correct time.” 

The grin slipped from Bellatrix’s face, replaced instead with hardened rage as she sat up, backing up one, two, three steps, and snarled, “ _What_?”

Hermione stood as well, quickly and in a jerking manner, one hand out as if trying to calm a wild animal. Her heart was beating too quickly right now, her palms sweaty. “I needed to tell you, I didn’t want to keep anything else a secret but-” already she was regretting saying anything, regretting ruining the purity of this moment. It had been a moment of wondrous peace in between threats of death and destruction. She hastily removed the parchment from her pocket, holding it out for Bellatrix to see, the words hard to make out due to the wind rippling the paper.

In a quick motion Bellatrix snatched the paper, her eyes reading over every single inch of writing, most likely recognizing it as McGonagall’s as well. When she was done, she threw it back and Hermione jumped to grab it before it could land in the sand. Bellatrix’s eyes were unforgiving as she looked up into the them, as the girl snapped, “Go on then. Go.”

“Bella, listen-” 

A useless request, Hermione knew as much. The dark witch was inconsolable when she was angry, an emotion she was most definitely feeling very strongly right now, but- but Hermione could see something else on her face, barely there and damn near impossible to make out, especially as Bellatrix began to walk towards the edge of the water.

“Bella! _Wait_!” Hermione huffed, her walk turning into a run as she raced to grab Bellatrix’s wrist, keeping her still. Bellatrix was quick to shrug her off, spinning to scowl at Hermione once more. “Listen you bloody idiot!” The brunette finally snapped, her anger growing nearly as quickly as Bellatrix’s. “Will you not even _talk_ to me about this?” 

“And what is there to talk about, Granger? You’re leaving, so _fucking leave_!” 

“I want to talk about this with you, Bellatrix! God, are you even listening to yourself!” Hermione screamed, her voice rivaling Bellatrix’s. They were lucky none of the other students or residents of the village were around to hear them, not that that would really be able to stop either of them at this point. Both of them had once again let their emotions get the best of them, and so quickly as well. “This is what Dumbledore told me when I went to office. I just found out! And the very first thing I wanted to do is talk to you about it!” 

Bellatrix kicked a small rock, the objet arching slightly before it crashed into the water, the girl spinning around with her hands outstretched at either side. “Too fucking bad! I have nothing to say about it! Go back to your shitty fucking timeline, when I’m a shitty fucking murderer, with your shitty fucking friends that you’ve known since you were fucking eleven for all I care!”

Every single part of Hermione’s being was aching to scream back, to knock the girl to ground, even if history had taught her that that would be a fight she’d lose once again, except...

Bellatrix wasn’t _angry_.

Well, she was (Hermione’s convinced the girl’s lives in a near perpetual state of anger), but there was something else, something stronger, that was upsetting her. She was _jealous_.

Time to change tactics, then.

Hermione stepped forward slowly, hoping Bellatrix wouldn’t revert back to old ways and lash out with a spell but not taking that off of the table completely. They had come far from their first few interactions together, but Bella would always be Bellatrix too.

“Can I talk?” Hermione tried, her voice low and gentle, her tongue darting out to wet her dry lips. “Please, just... hear me out.” She took another step, now only a few feet separated the two of them. She waited until Bellatrix looked at her, and ignoring her racing heart, ignoring the way she could barely breathe, she managed to say, her voice clear and steady so her words would be unmistakable, “I don’t want to leave.”

It was the truth she had not wanted to face, the one thing she did not want to acknowledge, but it was accurate. She wanted to make the most selfish decision of her entire life and stay here, for as long as she possibly could, with her friends.

With Bella.

It would hurt her, she knew, to never be with Harry and Ron like she has been for the last six years, but she also knew it would absolutely kill her to not be with Bellatrix, Andromeda, and even Narcissa. They had become her pseudo family in this time, Bellatrix had become... something more, and even the thought of never seeing them as they were now broke her.

She added, her eyes closed once more, a sudden urge to cry coming over her, “I don’t want to leave you.”

The silence that answered her possibly shattered her heart, and when she forced herself to open her eyes, Bellatrix was just staring at her, pale and quiet and unmoving.

It should have deterred her. It did not. “Even just picturing never seeing you again, at least not like this... I can’t stand that thought, Bella.” From her position, Hermione could see Bellatrix swallow at the confession, see her mouth open and close, again and again, but no words came out. Hermione pressed on. “I- I want to stay here. I want to stay here with you. Even when you drive me bloody mad, and make me want to curse you until I’m blue... I want to stay here with you.”

She does. More than anything. Hermione wants to stay here with Bellatrix. There wasn’t a single clue of what she would be returning to when she went back to her time, had no idea what sort of mess she might have caused by coming back thirty years. Where would Bellatrix be? Would she even be a part of this war, on their side? Or would she had disappeared somewhere? Met someone now that she wasn’t tied to Voldemort and spending years in prison? Maybe she started a family, had some babies, and now had nothing to do with either side?

The thought enraged Hermione more than she thought possible. She didn’t ever want to think of Bellatrix married with children, didn’t ever want to think of Bellatrix with anyone... anyone that wasn’t _her_. Now that thought had her pausing, but she didn’t have time to think about how deep that went, not now, not with Bellatrix looking at her like that.

“I don’t-” Bellatrix’s dark eyes looked anywhere but at Hermione, and for the first time Hermione saw the girl truly knocked off kilter, entirely unsure about herself and the conversation. She jerked a hand through her hair, a sure fire sign she was uncomfortable. “Hermione-” 

“Let me talk, please,” Hermione said quietly, wanting little more in this moment than to reach out and touch Bellatrix, just to comfort her. She had never seen the girl look so confused and hesitant. “I didn’t... I didn’t tell you this to hurt you, or to upset you, or anything like that, I _promise_.” She hoped she sounded sincere, hoped Bellatrix knew how serious she was taking this. “I’m telling you because the thought of keeping even one more secret from you is _killing me_.” 

Hermione paused, only to suck in a deep breath. She chanced a step closer, now only a few inches separating them.

“I have two amazing friends in my timeline. People I would die to protect, like you for your sisters. I have friends, and a life, and a war to win to save us all. And I want to throw that all away. For you. I want to say goodbye to all of that, to be here, with you.” 

Bellatrix blinked at her, her lip sucked between teeth, a crinkle between her eyebrows, but she no longer looked furious.

It was encouragement for Hermione to continue, to confess everything on her mind and heart.

“I’m willing to throw away everything I have ever known, Bella, to be here. With you. For you. Because I... because I like you, more than I ever thought possible, more than probably what is responsible, but for once I don’t care. I don’t care about any of that. I... I want to do something selfish, and I want to stay here with you.” 

Every single part of Bellatrix looked as if she wanted to run from this interaction and never look back. It would be the most unlike her to run from a fight, but this was no longer a fight, was it? This was a deep conversation, a confession of _something_ , and that had never been Bellatrix’s forte. 

Hermione would be heartbroken if the girl did flee, but she’d have her answer on whether or not she should stay. 

Even if her heart had already made the decision, and she knew, if Bellatrix reacted positively to this, she’d be marching right back to Dumbledore’s office and returning the spell to him. 

She’d see Harry and Ron and the others eventually. In thirty years, everything would happen as it should, and she would still get to see them once more. Not as she had known them, and always from a distance, but she’d see them. 

It would be worth it. 

The girl before her, clenching and unclenching her hands, looking as if she didn’t know whether to scream or run, was worth it. 

“I want you, Bellatrix. I want you. I want everything to do with you. I see every single part of you, and it infuriates me and excites me all at the same time. I’ve never felt more alive than when I’m with you.” Never felt more anger, either, but that didn’t need to be said. “And I think you want me too, and if you do, say it, and I will stay here forever. Just say it, please, that’s all I’m asking. And if you don’t... well, I’d understand. I will.” 

Silence once more. Silence, and then- 

Bellatrix made the first move this time, her eyes still wide and her gaze still unsure, but she leaned into Hermione nonetheless, pressing their mouths together gently, slowly, without a care in the world for time. 

There was nothing that could have made Hermione move away from the kiss, not as she felt Bellatrix’s hands shaking as they were placed on her jaw, the touch featherlight and so very soft. 

It was nothing like their last two kisses, where arousal had won out quickly, both desperate to move to the next step. No, it was nothing like that at all. It was just a kiss, just as simple and easy but world changing as that, and Hermione wouldn’t have had it any other way as she kissed back eagerly. 

This should have been their first kiss. As much as Hermione greatly enjoyed the other two, they weren’t born from the right circumstances. One came from an alcohol induced stupor, but both were done when Hermione was holding the biggest secret about herself back. But now Bellatrix knew everything. Knew it all, and was not afraid of any of it. 

She kissed Hermione as if to say exactly that, and Hermione kissed back much the same. 

Hermione pulled back just a fraction, her entire body screaming at her not to, but she whispered, “I have been wanting to do that since Slughorn’s party.” 

“Then why stop now?” Bellatrix asked back, leaning in to kiss her once more as Hermione brought her hands up to tangle into her thick mane of black hair. “Stay here, and you can kiss me forever.” 

Well, that sounded like the best possible thing Hermione could ever think of. She nodded rapidly, the kiss turning a bit harder, their hands moving a bit more desperately, but still it was the softest she had ever seen Bellatrix. 

God, Hermione was so glad Dumbledore had given her the parchment today. Who knows how this day would have turned out otherwise. Certainly not without her confessing feelings she didn’t even want to admit to herself, and definitely not with her deciding this was the time she belonged in. 

She pulled away from Bellatrix once more when the kiss had slowed down, smiling widely at the stubborn girl before her. 

Bellatrix’s eyes were half closed, her mouth swollen, her hair more tangled than normal, and still she grinned down at Hermione without a care in the world, not as she leant down to kiss her once more.

“We should- stop,” Hermione said, voice near breathless as she did the complete opposite of what she had just said, pulling Bellatrix ever closer and kissing her that much deeper. “Someone could see.”

She could feel the way Bellatrix smiled against her mouth, and already knew some sort of teasing joke was on the way. She didn’t need to wait long before the dark witch was whispering out, “Didn’t stop you last time we were here.”

“I was under the influence of alcohol,” Hermione protested, feeling her cheeks heat up at the memory of them in the lake, half naked and pressed against one another. She truly hadn’t shown a single care that the rest of the team was in the water with them, distracted as they were any one of them could have looked over at any time to see Hermione and Bellatrix in such a compromising position.

“Excuses,” Bellatrix replied a second before she nipped Hermione’s lip, the action causing the brunette to jerk closer, a soft moan escaping her mouth as well. “If you do that, we’re never leaving this lake.”

That sounded like the most appealing idea she had ever heard, even as her brain was telling her to overlook her arousal and be sensible. For once, there was not a single inclination to listen to her mind, not as Bellatrix’s hands moved, one to her neck, one moving down her side, the feeling familiar by now, reminiscent of their first two kisses.

They were both completely lost in the feeling of one another, so focused on kissing, that they had tuned out the world around them. Until they heard a deep, commanding voice say, “Now this isn’t how the heir of Black should be behaving.”

Bellatrix moved at once, wand at the ready, spinning around in the direction of whoever said that, her body positioned just so so that Hermione was nearly entirely blocked. As if she would let that happen. She moved around Bellatrix, now standing by the rock to see who had caught them in such an act.

Cygnus Black the Third stood before them, elegantly dressed in a charcoal grey suit, a purple button-down underneath. His hands were in his pockets, his shoulders relaxed. Not a care in the world as he prowled forward.

The excitement and rightness of their kiss and Hermione’s confession wore off in an instant as her body went into defense mode. 

“Bellatrix,” Cygnus began again, his voice terrifyingly calm. “It’s time you knock this nonsense off.” 

Bellatrix stood tensed, wand out but lowered, her attention focused entirely on her father, who was staring back unflinchingly. There was nowhere for them to go now, unless they made a break for it to the woods, to get back to Hogsmeade and the others. 

That sparked a thought into Hermione’s head. Why now? Cygnus had frequently came to the castle to see Bellatrix, what would make now so different? And why wait until they were at Hogsmeade, away from the protection of the castle?

Something didn’t feel right...

“Bella,” Hermione said softly, reaching out to grab Bellatrix’s wrist. The dark haired girl jerked to look at her, face so painfully unreadable right in this moment. “We should go back to the village.”

“In a moment,” Bellatrix shrugged her off, attention once more back on the man. “I wasn’t aware I was partaking in any sort of nonsense, father.”

“Your betrayal greatly hurt your mother, Bellatrix. You know how weak she can be at times. She hasn’t left our bed in weeks.” The tone of his voice suggested either he was lying, or did not care in the slightest about his wife’s current condition. “She misses you, and wishes you to return home with me today.”

Hermione palmed her wand, the action not unnoticed by Bellatrix, if the way she slipped into more of a fighting stance was any indication.

“Mother is sick, you say?” Bellatrix asked, taking one slight step forward, now once more partially blocking Hermione, who just moved to stand beside her again. “How convenient.”

“Bella,” Hermione whispered, her voice urgent as she too looked to the woods. There was nothing she could see, not from her position at least, but she could now hear rustling, the subtle crack of a twig as something heavy stepped on it. 

“Do you not care about your mother, Bellatrix? Have you allowed this insolent girl to blind you to what matters most in life? 

Bellatrix gave a partial nod to Hermione, the only indication she was aware of whatever was in the wood. “We’re meeting friends here in a bit, father,” the dark witch said suddenly, and Hermione fought to keep her face neutral at the lie. “They’ll be here any minute. You should go, before they arrive. We wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about our family.” 

Cygnus smiled in a way that said he knew Bellatrix was lying, and was willing to call her bluff as such. “How inappropriate of you then, to kiss the girl like that in public, when any of your fellow students might arrive and see. And what if it got back to Rodolphus?” 

He was playing with them. That much was obvious by how he spoke, so unlike the way he had at the Manor, when he had nothing to lose by demanding Bellatrix follow him into the office. He had been cold and brash then, but now he was confident, bordering on cocky as he spoke, a faux sweetness to his voice. A mockery of how a father should really sound. 

“I will not ask again, Bellatrix,” he growled when she didn’t respond to his call out. Hermione’s wand hand shook a bit, but she would not attack. Not just yet. She knew nothing of Cygnus’ fighting style, but would bet Bellatrix did. And that’s what was keeping her from attacking now. 

Bellatrix didn’t think it would be a battle they could win, even the two of them against him. 

That thought did nothing to comfort Hermione. 

“The Dark Lord is not pleased at your betrayal,” he said suddenly, not caring that Hermione was there to overhear the conversation. Because he thought she knew about it already? Or because he didn’t think she’d escape here to tell anyone? Again, not comforting. “He is willing to forgive our family, of course, he is a merciful lord. We could still be in his good graces, our family spared, when his reign begins, if only you come now.” 

Hermione chanced a glance at Bellatrix and found the girl’s face impassive once more, not a single thought visible on her face. 

“But, of course, as he has always said, he’s not interest in _you_. He wants our family’s name. And, of course, there are others to take your place.” Cygnus waved to the woods, right where Hermione had heard the shuffling. 

Both her and Bellatrix turned to face the woods head on, trying to see through the thick foliage to whatever Cygnus had been gesturing towards.

They didn’t need to search for long before whatever was in there made itself known.

Four figures stepped out from the darkness, and right in that moment Hermione experienced a true sense of fear when she noted what two of the masked wizards were gripping.

Andromeda and Narcissa.

Bellatrix had gone deathly, deathly still.


	17. XVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is... chaotic, to say the least. a lot happens. this one has had me very stressed out, but I wanted to say thank you to my friend vivihuh for helping me figure out what was going to happen in this one, and also my friend eile24 for listening to me complain about it. 
> 
> hopefully you guys enjoy it

Hermione survived Devil’s Snare, had solved Snape’s potion challenge, woke up from being petrified from a basilisk, faced a (at the time, supposed) murderer, called a werewolf to save her and Harry, was knocked unconscious and forced to the bottom of Black Lake, faced a horde of Death Eaters in the Ministry of Magic, had Death Eaters break into Hogwarts and kill Dumbledore, and was on the run for months with Harry and Ron, trying not to get captured by Snatchers while hunting the remaining Horcruxes. 

And, of course, being tortured and scarred by Bellatrix Lestrange after they were captured by said Snatchers. 

For all of those situations, Hermione truly believed they were the scariest thing she had ever done in the heat of the moment, until some new challenge arose, and then that became the scariest thing she had ever faced. 

Every single one of those paled in comparison to what was happening now, once more on Black Lake. 

She didn’t know whom to look at. Andromeda: struggling and hissing in her captor’s hold, the right side of her mouth bloodied and swollen as if they had punched her trying to grab her. Narcissa: wide-eyed and staring at their father, her clothing stained and torn as if she had fought as well, her shoulders tensed and her jaw clenched. Or Bellatrix: her wand was out and leveled at their father’s chest, her body so coiled with tension everything was shaking as she glared at Cygnus Black with enough hatred in her eyes it knocked what little breath Hermione had in her lungs out. 

Hermione was racing through all possible ways to get out of this mess alive and unhurt, all of them, and was coming up empty each and every time. 

Black Lake wasn’t a terribly popular place for students to go to during Hogsmeades outing, and why would it be? It didn’t make sense for students to want to come stare at water when they could catch up on shopping. They’d be lucky if anyone stumbled across them at all, and even if they did, what would barely trained student be able to do in the face of four Death Eaters and Cygnus? And what if the students were third or fourth years? 

They could hope for a professor to come by, for whatever reason, though that was even less likely, as the professors that accompanied the students to the village spent their time relaxing in the Three Broomsticks. 

Attacking was an option, as always, though Andromeda and Narcissa were wandless and at the mercy of the four masked men at their sides. Would Hermione or Bellatrix be able to react quick enough to make sure the younger two weren’t hurt or apparated away somewhere? More odds Hermione did not like. 

They were backed into a metaphorical corner, and Cygnus knew it. 

“You made a mistake leaving on your birthday, Bellatrix,” Cygnus said, unflinching even as the wand remained trained on him. He knew Bellatrix would not fire, not when it meant her sisters could be hurt in doing so. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was for your mother and I to have to announce to the party you had fallen very ill suddenly, and had to be carried to your room for the remainder of the night?” 

He risked a glance towards the masked men, and Hermione had to wonder who was hidden behind the golden coverings. Was it Antonin Dolohov once again? Rodolphus and Rabastan? Dolohov had made it clear he wanted Hermione’s head for what she had done to him months prior, perhaps now he would once more attempt that. 

“The Dark Lord is willing to forgive all of your transgressions if you leave with me now. However, as I have said, if you deign to do your duty to our household, one of your sisters shall merely step in to take your place.” 

Which was the very last thing Bellatrix would want to happen, the sole motivation she had that permitted her to force herself into following Voldemort to begin with. She would never allow Andromeda or Narcissa to be forced into the things she’d one day have to do. Would never want them to fight the war they all knew was coming. 

“Andromeda and Narcissa stay here,” Bellatrix said fiercely, not taking her eyes off of her father, even as her sisters struggled to break away from the Death Eaters. “Tell those idiots to let them go, before things go badly for them.” 

One of the masked men, the stupidest one of them, laughed out loud at the statement. As if he had looked at Bellatrix, saw a small seventeen year old girl, and dismissed her entirely. Hermione knew that would soon be his mistake, if they could figure out a way to successfully attack without risking either girl in their grips. 

Bellatrix continued, her voice resorting back to that stiff, emotionless voice, so different from the way she had been talking to Hermione only minutes ago. “Let them go, and you and I can return home, and I will do what it takes to get back in the Dark Lord’s good graces.” 

_That_ had Hermione startling, and she was only just able to keep from yelling out. Bellatrix couldn’t possibly be serious right now, was she? There was no way she’d be so willing to return with her father, and throw away everything they were working towards? 

“Let them go, father. Let the three of them return to Hogwarts. I am of age, no one can argue my decision to not return, whereas Dumbledore could get the governors involved should Andy and Cissy not go back.”

What... the hell was she thinking? Hermione was coming up with a _plan_ , did Bellatrix not know that? She just needed _time_. 

Cygnus pulled one of his hands out of his tailored pants pockets, waving it dismissively. “The governors are not any of our concerns, and I have no interest in permitting Andromeda and Narcissa to return to Hogwarts.” He didn’t elaborate on why the school’s governors were of no concern, though having had experience with Lucius Malfoy, Hermione wouldn’t have been surprised if he’s been bribing them. “It’s about time we distance ourselves from a school run by a man such as Albus Dumbledore.” Cygnus scoffed as he said the name, smoothly sliding his hand back into his pocket. “Get over here, Bellatrix. We are going now.” 

“Not until I know for certain Andromeda and Narcissa will stay here.” 

“No.” 

There was nothing on his cruel face, nothing close to the usual emotions a father should have for his children. Nothing at all. He was a cruel, empty, heartless man. Money hungry and power. 

Hermione wanted him dead. 

“Nott, Burke,” he said, not bothering to look at whichever of the men he was addressing. There was a subtle hint of a mocking smirk on his face, so different from Bellatrix’s own. “Take my daughters back to the manor. Now.” 

Bellatrix had only just began to spin and face the Death Eaters as her sisters yelled for her, as Hermione started to try to run to them, when the two men holding them disappeared in a puff of black smoke. 

The anguish with which Bellatrix screamed “ _NO_!” tore through Hermione’s heart, and she decided right then and there if Bellatrix decided to kill her father, she would not intervene. He deserved it for this and so much more. 

Bellatrix turned to face her father, her shoulders shaking with the force of her rage as she hissed out, “If something happens to them, _I will kill you_.” 

“Enough with the dramatics. I’m tired of this game. Go home now.” 

“You didn’t have to take them.” Bellatrix sounded so broken, so entirely unlike her usual, self assured. 

Cygnus merely shrugged, the action enough to make Hermione debate killing him now, herself. But she wouldn’t, couldn’t, even if her heart ached at having watched Narcissa and Andromeda be taken, and them powerless to stop it. 

“I will not say this again. It is time to return home, now, or I kill the girl.” 

For the first time, Cygnus turned to look at Hermione, his face blank and his eyes dead, as if he had not just threatened to kill a seventeen year old girl just to get his daughter back in his grasp. 

Hermione had expected a fight, or an argument at the very least, but the resigned way Bellatrix walked to her father, not even so much as opening her mouth? That had been the very last thing Hermione was ready to see, nor was she ready for Bellatrix standing beside her father, her eyes flat and emotionless even as she watched Hermione watch her. 

“I’ll allow you to say goodbye, Bellatrix, as you will not be seeing the girl again.” 

There were no tears in Bellatrix’s dark eyes, nothing in her stance that would give away she felt anything at all, but... Hermione did not miss the barely there crack of Bellatrix’s voice as she said, “We would have had fun together, dragon-rider.” And then Cygnus was gripping Bellatrix’s upper arm, and Bellatrix _flinched_ at the contact, and then they were gone, Hermione all alone on the beach. 

* * *

Dumbledore’s giant office felt too cramped, too crowded, even with so few people in the room. 

Hermione hadn’t let herself cry, hadn’t let herself collapse onto the rock and cry into her hands about how her friends were gone and she could do nothing to stop them. Hadn’t let herself cry over Bellatrix’s parting words. No, she did not have the time to let emotions get in the way. She sucked in a deep breath, forced her heart to calm, and marched from the beach back towards Hogsmeade, on the hunt for professors. 

She hadn’t needed to look for long, as a small army was quite literally marching directly at her, half a dozen professors led by McGonagall, Ted Tonks racing on the side to catch up. There was dried blood on the side of his temple, his eye slightly bruised and swollen, and Hermione just added hurting Ted to the ever growing list of things she could make Cygnus Black pay for. 

McGonagall had pulled Hermione to the side while the other five professors stormed to the beach and the forests for any lingering Death Eaters, and Hermione took the time to talk to her favorite professor and give her a brief description of what had happened. 

The woman’s face was pinched and displeased, barely concealed fury in her eyes as she said they would be going directly to Dumbledore. The professors not at the beach were all instructed to bring the students still enjoying the outing back to the castle, as Hogsmeade was currently not safe, even if Hermione knew there would be no Death Eaters there any longer. Their mission, for whatever reason they were working with Cygnus, had been accomplished. There was no need for them to stay. 

So Hermione raced with McGonagall back to the Headmaster’s office, knowing the sooner they got there the sooner Bella and her sisters could be saved. 

Professor Dumbledore had sent his patronus (a technique Hermione knew he would have only just recently developed, a spell known only by Order members) to Moody to come to the castle immediately. Moody had brought with him Elphias Doge, who like Dumbledore, did not look too different from the version Hermione had seen before in her time. Dorcas Meadowes was also present, a young with thick, dark hair, parts of the sides braided against her head, who could not be much older than Hermione herself, but stood with an air of confidence and skill that immediately reminded her of Bellatrix. 

They were all talking over one another, with Moody and Doge arguing over the best course of action, McGonagall interjecting every now and again to remind them all the priority was the safety of the missing students, not Order business. 

It seemed they all had forgotten Hermione was in the room entirely, her eyes red from crying and her throat sore from the effort. It was Dorcas who took a seat beside Hermione in one of the chairs and offered her a comforting smile. “Moody said they’re your friends?” 

“They are.” 

“Black’s are a... unique choice in friendship,” Dorcas said, her tone lacking any sort of menace or judgment. “I graduated two years ago, from Hufflepuff, so I knew of Bellatrix, everyone knows of her, and I talked to Andromeda a few times, but never had any conversations with Narcissa.” 

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh at that, the sound small and weak, but a laugh nonetheless. She was completely unsurprised that Narcissa had made no attempts to talk to someone from Hufflepuff. 

Dorcas held out a small metal flask, nondescript save for a plainly carved ‘D’ in the bottom right corner. “Want a drink? It’ll help you feel better.” 

“Thank you,” Hermione replied as she took a small sip, holding back the involuntary shudder as the fire whiskey slid down her throat, thick and overwhelming. She took two more small drinks before she returned the flask. She had no effort left to offer any sort of smile to the girl, so she did not even bother. 

Dumbledore finally put an end to the bickering, not needing to raise his voice to gain the attention of the room. “There is nothing more to do be sitting in this room. Moody, Doge, I believe a trip to the Ministry is in order. Find out what you can regarding the Governors. We need to know who has sided with Cygnus Black.” 

It was only due to the gentle hand Dorcas laid on Hermione’s shoulders that kept her in place. Dumbledore wanted Doge and Moody to look into the _Governors_? What good would that do them _now_ , when Bella and her sisters were _gone_? 

“They aren’t saying they’re not going to get them back,” Dorcas murmured to her, clearly having noted her rising distress. “Just that it will take time.” 

Time they didn’t have, not when Cygnus Black was involved, and so keen on returning his daughter to Voldemort. 

* * *

It took one week.

One whole week of Hermione constantly asking questions to McGonagall and Dumbledore (whenever he was present). They entertained the questions, promising her they were doing what they could to ensure the safe return of all three Black sisters and monitoring the threat that Voldemort posed.

Whatever that meant, seeing as no one was forth coming with real answers to any of her questions.

It was a week of hell for Hermione, who could do little more than worry herself sick about the current state of her friends. Daniel had tried his hardest to distract her with request to help him in classes, and Steve and Victoria had spent more time than usual around her, but it was all for nothing. No matter what they tried to do, Hermione could not be distracted from thoughts of what Bellatrix and her sisters might currently be going through. 

Had Cygnus handed over Bellatrix to Voldemort yet? If he had, in what ways would the Dark Lord make Bellatrix pay for her deceit and betrayal? To Hermione’s knowledge, Dumbledore and Moody had not yet done anything with the information Bellatrix provided at Christmas, so there was a chance for her to feign innocence and claim she kept all his secrets, but of course, Voldemort could very well not believe her. 

But it was exactly seven days after Bellatrix and her sisters had been forcibly taken from Hogsmeade that Dumbledore had Hermione come back to his office. This time, it was only the two of them and McGonagall in the room, and the moment Hermione stepped into the room, she found it hard to breathe. Her heart beat was erratic, her palms sweating, her hands clenching and unclenching.

Something bad had happened. Something had happened to Bellatrix or Andromeda or Narcissa or all of them and Dumbledore and McGonagall had brought her here to tell her this, to tell her she was never going to see them again.

The terrible, panic inducing thoughts kept racing through her mind, over and over and over again.

McGonagall noticed it all and motioned for her to sit, passing her a cup of hot tea quickly and urging her to drink it. Only once she relative control over her breathing did Dumbledore speak up.

“I must commend you on your ability to remain focused in a time of such heartache,” the headmaster began in his rumbling voice. Had Hermione been the sort of person to criticize a professor, she might have pointed out she's never had a less focused week than this, but she stayed silent, waiting for Dumbledore to continue. “This week, the Order has worked tirelessly to try to find all three of our missing students. The reason it has taken us so long to do so is Cygnus Black did not stay at the manor. The Blacks are spread wide, and their considerable wealth permits them to have many homes. They were staying at one of those, and it took the Order a few days to track them down, and then sometime longer to plan how to proceed next.” 

Hermione could do nothing more than nod to show she understood, and was no longer on the brink of hyperventilating. 

“The Order was able to track them to a house in Italy. I’ve sent word to Moody a few moments prior to your arrival, and they should be arriving shortly,” Dumbledore continued, taking a bite of a crumbling dessert, pieces of which getting stuck in his beard. “We shall wait for their arrival, and continue from there.” 

Luckily for Hermione’s rapidly fraying nerves, the Order did not take long to arrive. Once more it was Moody, Doge, and Dorcas, though this time Sturgis Podmore and Caradoc Dearborn were also in tow, and all of them immediately jumped into conversation about how they would proceed tonight. 

Hermione listened rapidly as they debated the merits of each plan they all proposed, McGonagall periodically chiming in to remind them the purpose of this mission was 

“Hermione stays behind,” Moody decreed to them all. Hermione had been taking the time to process how young some of the people in this room, people who Hermione knew would not have an easy time over the next eleven years. She didn’t have much room in her brain to focus on any of that though, not when Moody’s words were sinking into her.

“ _What_?” She scoffed, already feeling her anger flaring. “That’s preposterous. Of course I’m going.” 

“You’re a liability,” Moody said flatly, staring at Hermione with crossed arms and a scowl on his face. “We do not know the sort of trap we could be walking into. While Cygnus Black is not a member of Voldemort’s circle, his daughter was and possibly still is. We do not know if Death Eaters will be present at their house, or even if we can trust Bellatrix any further.”

Hermione jumped from her seat, anger way more elevated than only moments before. “Bellatrix is _not_ with them,” she all but yelled, hands curled into fists. “I told you! She only went with her father to protect Andromeda and Narcissa!” If they truly believed Bellatrix was voluntarily working for Voldemort again.... “I am going with you.” 

One way or another, whether they liked it or not, Hermione would be at whatever vacation home the Blacks were currently operating. It would make it easier if the Order would just agree to bring her along, but if they truly believed she would be more of a nuisance than anything else (as if she didn’t have experience already), then she would manage it herself, and make sure her friends were safe. And that Moody did not try to do anything stupid to Bellatrix under the pretense of thinking the girl to be working with Voldemort once more. 

She had opened her mouth to say part of if not all of those things, but Dorcas beat her too it, once again laying a comforting hand on Hermione’s shoulder and saying, “I don’t think it’s our smartest decision to leave Hermione behind. Yes, she hasn’t trained with us, but from what Dumbledore has said, she is a knowledgeable witch who can defend herself. Plus, she’ll be able to comfort her friends better than any of us, if need be. And, of course, if Bellatrix Black is once more working with Voldemort,” she sent a quick look to Hermione to let the girl know that was not what she believed, “well, she’s convinced her to leave him once before, she can do it again. I vote Hermione comes.” 

“This isn’t up for a vote, Meadowes,” Moody hissed firmly. “She is a child still under the care of Hogwarts.” 

“I am of age,” Hermione argued quickly, sensing Moody losing his patience. She needed to make her case now, before Dumbledore or McGonagall sided with the Auror and she truly did get stuck in the castle tonight. “I need to go. I need to be there.” 

“Professor Dumbledore,” McGonagall spoke up as Moody and Hermione quickly got into a rather loud debate about Hermione’s decision to go. “She is a student of our school, we must keep her best interests in mind,” Hermione tensed as her professor spoke, not figuring this would be going in her direction either. “ _However_ , I fear it will do Hermione no good should she be forced to stay here worrying over the fate of her friends any longer. She has continuously proved herself to be a talented witch, both in the classroom _and_ out.” 

A pointed look at Hermione to let her know what McGonagall thought of her constant fights and duels with Bellatrix early on, and Hermione gave a sheepish look back to the woman. 

“Miss Meadowes is correct in her assumption Hermione is key to tonight’s success. I never would have imagined condoning putting a student in the line of fire, but exceptions need to be made occasionally. Tonight is that time. I vote Hermione be permitted to attend.” 

Hermione could have reaped with relief at having McGonagall’s support, especially when Dumbledore was watching her contemplatively. Finally, after a long beat of silence, he said, “I agree. The choice remains in Miss Potter’s hand, should she wish to be involved tonight, as she has stated numerous times she is of age. The decision is her.” 

“I'm going,” Hermione said immediately, already thinking of all the possibilities they could face. None of it mattered. She was seeing Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa again. They would be coming home with her. That was the only thing repeating itself in her mind as the Order began discussing the details of their plan, and when each step needed to be conducted. 

Hermione was getting them back. 

* * *

The Black’s vacation home in Italy was smaller than Black Manor, but no less luxurious, and for a moment Hermione was in awe of the sort of wealth it must take to live like this. The thought barely lasted before Moody was quietly addressing all of them, their small group crouched behind a fence on the outskirts of the property, all looking up at the white stone and concrete. 

“We are going in there entirely blind. We have no idea the amount of people in the house or if any are Death Eaters. Everyone stays vigilant, keep your wits about you. Stay within your assigned group,” Moody said, his tone graver than anything Hermione had heard during her time here. “Okay, let’s move now.” 

There were split into two groups of three, with Hermione remaining with Moody and Dearborn’s group, so Moody could keep an eye on her. Dorcas was partnered with Doge and Podmore. The latter group would search the first floor of the house while Hermione and her group took the second level. 

It was two in the morning, and they were hoping to catch the family unaware, but Hermione had been to Black Manor, knew the amount of wards placed around the property, and knew that even though Dumbledore and Doge had spent the last few hours slowly and inconspicuously removing the wards for the Order to slip through, it would only be due to a struck of stupid luck that Cygnus Black remained sleeping throughout this operation. 

“Doge, all wards are down?” Moody asked, just to double (triple, quadruple) check that the wards had, in fact, been removed. Dumbledore himself had said as much. Doge merely nodded, used to the young man’s paranoid antics by now. “Then let’s go. Keep your wands and heads up. Unforgiveables cannot be used- they’d draw too much attention. Everything else we will be able to justify should the need arise. Let’s go.” 

They moved quickly and with surprising ease onto the property, and Hermione doubted she was the only one who held their breath when they crossed the line where the wards should have been. But when no alarms sounded, when no one rushed from the house, she let a sigh of relief slip through. One hurdle down, countless more to go. Nevertheless, it brought her one step closer to her friends. 

“No matter what you see in there,” Moody whispered to her as they reached the door. “You need to keep yourself in control. Losing yourself and letting your emotions get the best of you will result in nothing good. If you want your friends, and all of us, to walk out of here together, you have to stay calm and focused.” 

Even as her heart raced with every step she took, Hermione never felt more focused. They would be successful tonight. There was not any other sort of outcome that would be acceptable. 

Dorcas reached the door first and spelled it open, all of them holding their breaths once more before stepping over the threshold, wands out and illuminated. 

Hermione did not waste time looking around at the decorations and layout as she had done at Black Manor, not when Dorcas’ group was already heading left while Moody led them to the spiral staircase to the second level. The occasional torch shined light on the dark wood floors below their feet, but aside from that they remained alone and in the dark.

Upon coming across the first closed doo, a set of double brown wooden ones, Moody motioned for Dearborn to quietly ease it open. It revealed a small library, no candles lit, probably meaning no one was there. They wouldn’t risk the time to search a most likely empty room, but would circle back to do so later if everywhere was empty as well. The next room was smaller, easier to tell no one was in due to the simple office layout, and so she moved on from that as well. It was the third door that held the most promise so far, for when she tried to turn the knob nothing happened. It was locked. 

A quick spell from Moody rectified that, all of them looking around to make sure no one had heard him whisper the incantation, before the door was pushed open, and they finally came across a bedroom. 

The lack of decoration or any identifying objects in the room gave them no sort of insight to which family member resided in here, if any did at all, or if it was merely a guest room. A quick search of the room and the attached bath revealed nothing, with the closet and dresser being empty as well. Hermione felt as frustrated as Moody looked when he announced they needed to keep moving. 

When were they going to find anyone? Was anyone even _here_? Dumbledore had seemed so sure the Black’s retreated to this vacation home, but what if their information was wrong, wherever he had gotten it from? Each day that passed without Bellatrix and her sisters back in Hogwarts was another day that Hermione worried over the safety of her friends. 

“Hermione,” Moody said in a harsh whisper, gaining her attention when she failed to leave the bedroom. “We need to move.” 

She nodded her apologies and slipped from the bedroom, trailing between the two men as they once more hit another door, unlocked. 

Dearborn was in front, with Moody bringing up the lead, and that meant that when the first spell was thrown their way from somewhere inside the bedroom, Moody grabbed Hermione by the back of her t shirt and threw her to the side as Dearborn threw up a quickly conjured shield, blocking the red beam aimed at his chest. 

So they weren’t mislead about the whereabouts of the Black family at all. Only about catching them unaware. 

“Stay down!” Moody commanded to Hermione at the same time he threw his own offensive spell into the darkness of the room. There was no way he was able to see the person’s location, and had to just be aiming in the general vicinity of where the spell came from. “Dearborn! How many?” He chanced a look in Hermione’s direction and saw her trying to stand. “ _STAY DOWN!_ ” 

As if she’d sit back and do nothing. Dearborn grunted a response that sounded like ‘no idea’, though she couldn’t be sure, not when Hermione pushed herself to her into a crouched position, risking a look around the doorway into the room right as one of them cast a spell to light the torches. 

Hermione didn’t know where to look: Cygnus, wand out but spells no longer flying now that Hermione had entered the room; Bellatrix, wand partially raised, her face paler than Hermione ever recalled seeing, with heavy bags under her eyes, favoring her left side as she stood, one shoulder raised higher than the other; the two other men in the room at the back, all dark haired and pale enough to suggest some sort of relation to the Blacks; or at Andromeda, barely standing, held up more so by the tight grip the masked man had on her upper arms, her head lolled to the side, one eye blackened, and her lip swollen and angry with dried blood. 

Her friend, the first one to whole-heartedly welcome her to the school, who had teased and mocked her about Bellatrix, who had defended their friendship to her sisters countless times. She was someone Hermione had come to love, and looking at her now, Hermione vowed Cygnus was not walking out of this encounter. 

All of them were going to pay. 

Cygnus most of all, who stood between his two daughters and the man. 

Andromeda thrashed against the man holding her, and the whimper she made when it caused the wand to dig farther into her skin was the breaking point for Hermione. They had kidnapped her friends, beat Andromeda, and now used her as a shield. Something dark and oily slid over Hermione’s mind, blocking out any sort of rational thought, save for getting her friends to safety and making the picks who did this pay. It was so entirely unlike her and she didn’t care at all, not now. 

Moody stepped into the room as well and quickly canvased it, taking in all three people on the opposite side, the way the the doors behind them onto the balcony were open, a gentle breeze swaying the curtains on either side. 

Where were the other three members of their group? 

“I’m here on official Auror business,” Moody began, his voice loud and clear, his wand raised to Cygnus. “By order of the Ministry, lower your wand, lay on the ground, both of you. Release Andromeda and Bellatrix Black right now.” 

“You had no grounds to enter my home, attack my family, and hurt my daughter.” Cygnus waved a hand towards Andromeda, who did manage to scowl at her father, despite how much that must have hurt her mouth to do so. “We will not be cooperating with you, or the others downstairs in my house. All of whom I have on good authority are not Aurors, and therefore have no excuse to be here.” He looked to Hermione as he said, “And as such, Bellatrix is here of her own free will, defending her family and home. Are you not, Bellatrix?” 

“I am,” Bellatrix replied, and Hermione’s heart leapt at the sound of her voice, even the words were not what she imagined hearing. Bellatrix did not look in Hermione’s direction once, not as she said to Moody, “You need to leave now.” 

“Bella-” Hermione took a hesitant step forward, desperate to be closer to Bellatrix, desperate to knock out the masked man, desperate to do so many different things to Cygnus. “Bella-” 

“Don’t call me that, Potter,” Bellatrix snapped, finally training those perfectly gorgeous dark eyes on Hermione. “Get out. You made a mistake coming here.” Her body was as still as possible, but Hermione did not miss the fraction of a dip in her wand arm, nor the slight twitch of her mouth and nose when she did move, as if... as if that movement had hurt her. Was Bellatrix injured as well? 

“You heard my daughter. Leave, before I decide to stop being generous.” Cygnus’ tone was that of a man who believed he had won, a man under the impression he was untouchable. It was a thousand times worse than anything Lucius Malfoy could hope to achieve, and Hermione had to restrain herself from lashing out. That feeling only intensified when he placed a possessive hand on Bellatrix’s shoulder. “My daughter has tired of you, girl, you embarrass yourself coming here.” 

That wasn’t true, and Hermione would not allow the words to affect her. Even if Bellatrix wasn’t vocalizing the fact that her father was wrong, it was still a false statement. Every single part of her being believed it. Bellatrix was not herself right now. If she truly wanted to be here, if she truly was so tired of Hermione, she would be the one saying that.

If Hermione had learned anything over the past few months, it was how much Bellatrix enjoyed taunting and playing with her toys. Kicking Rabastan at Hogsmeade, verbally sparring with Andromeda until her sister body checked her, antagonizing Hermione until spells flew... 

This Bellatrix, silent and deathly pale and slightly wobbly, eyes alternating between the Order and her sister... that was not a girl that wanted to be in this situation, but was doing so anyway. To what end? To protect Andromeda from a further beating? Something to do with Narcissa, who Hermione needed to find before they left? 

“Bellatrix is an of age witch, if she chooses to remain here that is her decision,” Moody began, causing Hermione to throw caution to the wind and spin around to glare at him. There was no way he was looking at Bellatrix right now and still thought she could possibly want this? “However, as a show of good faith, let us return Andromeda and Narcissa to Hogwarts.” 

Andromeda’s eyes were fluttering opened and closed slower and slower with each passing moment. They needed to get her out and seen by a mediwitch soon. Bellatrix too. How though? The last encounter with Cygnus had ended with him disappearing with all three girls. But Hermione was with others now, skilled Aurors and duelers, even if Moody was a bloody cockroach for ever thinking Bellatrix would voluntarily stand by her father. 

“Though it is not your concern, Auror, I am in the process of pulling all of my children from Hogwarts school. The paperwork is in my office. None of my children are leaving here tonight. In fact, should this pointless interaction continue, none of you will be leaving either.” 

Hermione had a sinking feeling things were about to get a lot worse than they already were. Andromeda looked like she was on the verge of losing consciousness, and Bellatrix didn’t seem too far off, not by the way she was favoring one side over the over, her eyes hazy and her skin paler than normal. 

What had Cygnus _done_ to them over the past week? 

Where the hell was Narcissa?

Moody must be able to tell as well, as he shifted slightly closer to Hermione, as if he’d knock her away again should the need arise. As if she’d let him. He slipped back into conversation with Cygnus, once more asking the man to allow them to leave without any sort of altercation beyond this. Hermione didn’t know if he genuinely was willing to walk away, or if it was a distraction. 

And didn’t care, not when Bellatrix was staring right at her now that Cygnus was occupied. 

She hardly moved, could not risk her father noticing anything, but kept motioning with her eyes to Andromeda, who continued to weakly struggle against her captor. Bellatrix made the motion with her eyes again and again, doing it in an unending loop. 

Was she trying to tell Hermione to get Andromeda out? Leave her, and take Andromeda out? Hermione would not. She’d get them all out tonight. Bellatrix would not be left behind. 

Hermione subtly shook her head, and Bellatrix did the motion again. _No_ , Hermione said once more. 

And then- 

Bellatrix’s already thin patience must have worn out, and Hermione could not decide if that was a saving grace or something to damn them all, not as Bellatrix moved quicker than she ought to be able, backing up until she had a clear view of Andromeda and the masked man. 

And then things all started happening in rapid succession, started of course, by Bellatrix. 

“ _STUPEFY_!” 

All eyes had been on Moody and Cygnus. None of them, save Andromeda and Hermione, had noticed Bellatrix throw her wand up and aim it at the golden masked man. He threw back into the wall and dropped, unmoving, and Bellatrix had only just those few seconds to throw up a protego spell to save herself from being hit with a curse from Cygnus. 

“GET HER!” Bellatrix screamed, distracted, as she blocked spell after spell from her father, Moody and Doge quick to join in as well, all of them now facing Cygnus as Hermione raced to Andromeda, who had collapsed onto the floor when the man was forced to release her. 

The other two men in the room, who until now had remained still and silent, jumped into action as well, both skilled enough that yes, Hermione knew for sure they were some sort of Black. Everyone started yelling spells over one another, lights of all colors coming from wands. 

In an entirely reckless decision, Hermione threw her back to the battle as she raced to Andromeda’s side. The younger girl’s eyes widen as she said, “Watch-!” and Hermione had time only to spin, her wand half drawn, her body acting as a shield to Andromeda, as a curse was sent her way, aimed directly at her chest. 

And bounced off of a shield, curtesy of Doge, who did not have time to acknowledge her relieved thanks. Hermione didn't care, not as it gave her time to look at Andromeda. Hurt, undoubtedly, but alive. Now, if they could just find Narcissa, they could get out of here. 

“Where are you hurt? Where is Narcissa?” Hermione kept running her hands over Andromeda’s arms lightly, knowing they didn't have time for this, not when there was an unconscious Death Eater beside them and three furious Black wizards at their backs, all of them wanting them dead. 

“I’m- fine.” Andromeda blinked slowly once more, worrying Hermione further. “Cissy is in the basement with my mother.” 

Hermione could only hope the reason the other Order members had not come to their aid was that they found Narcissa in the basement, and were getting her to safety. 

“Can you walk on your own?” Hermione seriously doubted it, but she needed to ask. The longer this conversation went on, the longer they remained vulnerable, and the longer neither of them could help in the fight. Worse, they were little more than distractions as Moody and Doge kept having to throw up shields to keep them from being hit. 

“I don’t- I don’t know,” Andromeda said despairingly, and once more her eyes widened, her hand shooting out to grip Hermione’s wrist weakly, and Hermione turned again, watching, unable to intervene, as a red spell hit Doge in the stomach, sending him spiraling to the ground. 

He did not get back up again. 

Moody couldn’t go to his aide, not when him and Bellatrix were still trying to take down Cygnus and their relatives. It was a fight to behold, that was for sure, as aside from Doge’s collapse, neither side had been able to place any serious spells on the other. 

They were doing considerable damage to the room, though, as every blocked spell ricocheted and slammed into furniture, a wall, some decorations, anything it reached first. Hermione ached to join, but she could not leave Andromeda weak and defenseless here. She’d never forgive herself if something happened to her best friend in this timeline. 

But watching Bellatrix and Moody block assault after assault was weighing on her, and even the sight of Moody landing a successful stunner into one of the unknown men, taking him down, did little to console her. It did leave the two sides matched once more, and seemed to give their side the boost it needed, and Bellatrix sent five spells in rapid fire towards the other man, the last two finally hitting their mark and taking him down as well. 

“End it now,” Moody said, once it became two-on-one. “This doesn’t have to end terribly for you, Cygnus.” 

“Or it could,” Bellatrix shrugged, her face reddened with exertion, a shimmering sheen of sweat on her skin. “That sounds fine to me.”

“You idiotic girl,” Cygnus hissed, all of their wands aimed but none casting a spell, the fight seemingly paused so they could go back to arguing. “You are foolish to believe he’d ever let you or this family go. I hope your misbegottendevotion to your sisters or your carnal desires with the girl are worth the pain and torture you will receive for disobeying him twice now.” 

That sounded ominous, and given the tract record of how this timeline was going for them, did not seem like it would play out in their favor. Hermione stood now that the fight was over, and held out a hand for Andromeda to grip onto. Once she had the girl standing, albeit very shakily, she slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. They didn’t move any closer to the others, but Hermione felt better standing and facing them all. 

Bellatrix looked to them for one second, and Hermione knew that was a slight dip in her shoulders as some of the tension eased at seeing her baby sister upright and away from the Death Eater. 

Cygnus noticed as well, and his face shifted to one of further displeasure and revulsion, enough so that he went as far as to open his mouth and- 

“Say one thing about Hermione or Andromeda, and I will cast the killing curse on you right now.” 

Hermione knew Bellatrix was deathly serious right in that moment, much to the detriment of the timeline. 

“You would kill your own father over the likes of the girl and your sister?” Cygnus looked disgusted at the thought. Not at being killed, for he seemed to not take that part earnestly, but at the fact that Bellatrix valued Hermione and Andromeda more than him. “Your sister, who has been a disappoint since the moment she nearly killed your mother coming out, your sister, who-” 

He didn’t get to finish the sentence, for Bellatrix moved at a pace that Hermione couldn’t properly track. Cygnus did though, and blocked the stunner quickly. The battle resumed, Hermione once more using her body to block Andromeda. The only difference was this time she was standing, and could throw her own spells into the mix. She couldn’t move as easily as the others, not when Andromeda was resting so heavily on her side, but she was able to block them both well enough, and throw offensive spells at Cygnus. 

It should have been impossible for him to last as long as he was, but he was a Black, the patriarch of the family, and Hermione had watched Bellatrix defy the odds in a battle enough times to know how skilled the man was, and how long he could probably keep this going if they didn’t manage to get the upper hand. 

Or, it would have, had Cygnus not made a horrible mistake. 

His wand was pointed right at Bellatrix as he began to do a movement that had Hermione’s stomach sinking, his mouth forming the damning words. 

Hermione didn’t give herself time to think or second guess or try to figure out a better solution. 

Not when Cygnus was saying, “Ava-” 

“ _BOMBARDO MAXIMA!_ ” 

The white beam of light exploded everything. 

The room was spacious, but even a Black house was not big enough to survive such a powerful explosive spell, not when done in doors, and especially not when done in a room that had already been taking a beating. 

Hermione heard a scream that very well could have been her own as her and Andromeda were forced backwards into the wall as a loud explosion overtook them all as it slammed into the wall by Cygnus, immediately destroying it. The impact rocked them all, and a smoky, hazy mist from the destruction of the stones covered the room. There was another loud crack, Hermione trying to blink the dust from her head even as her vision swam, and then the ceiling was falling. 

Hermione threw herself overtop of Andromeda’s body, throwing a shield above them both as pieces of stone rained down. She could do nothing but endure it, and hope the others were able to do the same.   
  
Even as her heart was racing, her mind going over where everyone was standing before she reacted and cast such a powerful spell in such a small space. 

She hadn’t been able to think of anything but stopping Cygnus was casting the killing curse on Bellatrix. Her body had acted without her mind’s approval, and before she even recognized what she was doing the spell was out. Had she had time to think, she might have chosen a less severe one. Mainly because the closest person to Cygnus was Bellatrix. 

Hermione very well could have just damned them all for nothing, if her own spell had harmed Bella. 

There was another yell, deeper this time, and through the ringing in Hermione’s ears she could make out her name being said by that deep voice, followed by Andromeda’s, Doge’s, and Bellatrix’s. Definitely Moody. She breathed a sigh of relief to know that at least he was conscious, and cursing up a storm as more pieces of the walls and ceiling collapsed.

He was saying something, something other than their names, but Hermione couldn’t say for sure what it was, not when the ringing was still so loud, and she could finally feel Andromeda stirring beside her. She felt more than heard the girl give a pitiful groan of pain. Hurt, but alive. It was enough for now. 

What the hell happened to Bella? 

Hermione thought she was screaming her name, over and over, but she wasn’t sure if she was thinking it or voicing it. 

Moody spoke again, followed by a deep groan that she didn’t think belonged to him. Hermione hoped it was Doge, and not Cygnus or the others, even if that would make her a murderer. 

Murderer. The word clanged through her, forcing another gasp from her mouth as her blood froze and her heart nearly stopped. Murderer. She’d be a murderer if they all didn’t walk from this room tonight. Even if the person she killed was Cygnus, she- she- 

Through the dust, Andromeda’s blurry face came into her line of sight, her skin dusty and bloodied, but whole. Andromeda said or mouthed her name, once, twice, placing her hands on either side of Hermione’s face. 

“ _Hermione_.” A third time, this time coming in over the slowly subsiding ringing, and Hermione was able to blink her into focus. “We need.. to move.” Andromeda’s voice was little more than a wet gasp. “The _ceiling_.” 

The ceiling was slowly coming down, in big and small chunks. It was a matter of luck none had fallen on them, but how had their friends faired? 

_Murderer_. 

Andromeda was pulling Hermione’s hands as another body came into somewhat of a view, more a silhouette than anything for a second or two before she could make out Moody, even if he looked wrong. 

It took her too long to realize why. 

Bloodied and limping, Moody had a body thrown over his shoulder. 

Even through the dust, through the most likely concussion she had given herself, Hermione would have been able to recognize the main of wild hair peaking over Moody’s shoulder. 

Bellatrix. 

Dead, or unconscious?

Hermione didn’t let herself consider any other possibility aside from unconscious, not as she forced herself to stand, nearly collapsing from the wave of dizziness and nausea that overtook for a moment. 

“Can you walk?” Moody asked, eyes large and wild as he looked them over. Hermione gave a jerky nod. She wasn’t sure she could walk, nor did she know if Andromeda could, but they’d have to make do. They needed to get away. “Good. Apparate out of here. Now. To the house.” 

As gently but quickly as possible he laid Bellatrix on the ground, and Hermione held back her choke of panic at the sight of the girl. She looked more bruise and blood than skin right in that moment, and Hermione couldn’t make out if she was breathing through the dust. 

Another piece of ceiling fell, this one closer to them than the others. 

Hermione didn’t want to leave, not when everyone else was still in the house. 

Was Narcissa still in here? 

“We-” she tried to say they couldn’t, tried to say the names of their friends still in here, but the wall closest to them crumbled. The outside was completely visible, the outside air sucking out some of the dust. “Moody-” 

“ _GO_.” His voice sounded panicked for the first time she’s ever heard. “ _NOW_.” 

He would save the others. He would, he would, he would. 

_Murderer_. 

With an anguished, panicked cry, Hermione gripped Andromeda’s hand, her other tightly wound around Bellatrix’s shallowly moving chest, and apparated away. 


	18. XVIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its been longer than I intended to get this chapter up, so uh, my bad

Dumbledore must have prepared for the night to go badly, for the wards preventing apparating directly it not the townhouse operating as Headquarters were disabled, and so Hermione was able to appear and collapse right in the middle of the living room, a gasp leaving her and Andromeda’s mouths at the jolt of pain that action sent through their bodies. 

Bellatrix didn’t stir. Hermione couldn’t hold back her cry as she scrambled to the girl’s side, ignoring every part of her body aching in pain and bleeding, ignoring even Dumbledore and McGonagall rushing into the room. 

She didn’t know how long they had been waiting here, didn’t care to find out, not as she whirled and demanded to them both, “ _SAVE HER!_ ” 

There was blood staining her hands. She had no idea if it was her own, Andromeda’s, or Bellatrix’s. 

_Murderer_. 

She ignored the word her brain kept wanting to scream. Ignored everything but McGonagall crouching down to wave her wand over Bellatrix as Dumbledore tended to Andromeda. 

McGonagall wanted her to move, Hermione was sure of it, but she was not leaving Bellatrix’s side, not as she watched the too slow and uneven rise of her chest. Each passing second was a second she could lose Bella. A second she could have lost someone else back at the house and they didn’t even know it yet. 

_Murderer_. 

It was only Dumbledore’s words to Andromeda that kept Hermione from breaking entirely. 

“You are a very strong girl, Miss Black. You’ll recover nicely.” She’ll recover, she’ll recover. 

Will Bella?

_Murderer_. 

Hermione had no concept of time, not as each blink felt heavier than the one before it, not as she was constantly having to retighten her grip on Bellatrix’s hand as McGonagall worked. Her mind felt so fuzzy, her limbs felt like they weren’t attached to her body anymore, her mouth was too dry. 

She just barely heard McGonagall’s yell of, “Hermione!” before she finally lost consciousness. 

* * *

The only indication Hermione had that she wasn’t dead was the annoying sensation of someone forcing potions down her throat. Aside from that, hours or days or years could have passed without her noticing, for the thick, oily concoctions left her in a delirious state where Hermione couldn't tell what was real and what was a dream. 

Moody coming into the room, trailed behind a cat that hopped onto the table by the bed? She thought it was real, but she could have swore the cat was really watching her in a way no animal should be able to do. Especially when Moody told the cat to keep watch on her, and it _did_. It curled up by the window and watched over her. Definitely a dream, then. She thinks. 

The next thing she can recall is seeing Narcissa laying in bed beside Andromeda, the younger girl curled up beside her older sister, keeping her distance so to not hurt her, but Hermione could make out Narcissa’s arm stretch to touch Andromeda. Probably real. Hopefully real. Her last memories of Andromeda were- she doesn’t want to think about it. 

Bellatrix came later, no injuries to be seen, all cocky grin and confident steps as she walked to Hermione’s bed and sat down beside her. The movement of the bed should have hurt her, as all sorts of movements hurt her now, but it didn’t. She didn’t feel anything, nothing at all aside from Bellatrix’s hand, warm and gentle on her thigh as she shifted to lay beside, pressing their bodies as closely together as possible. 

Well, that didn’t make sense. Bellatrix wasn’t a cuddler. Had never tried to get close to Hermione like this. But- 

Bellatrix kissed her. 

It felt- 

Exactly like how their last three kisses had felt. Bellatrix dominated it, one hand pulling Hermione's face closer to her’s while the other remained on her thigh, soft fingers trailing up and down Hermione’s skin. 

That didn’t make sense either. There was a bandage on her thigh there, wasn’t it? Hermione couldn’t remember. Couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t Bellatrix’s mouth against her own, or that daring hand moving higher and higher until- 

Hermione moaned, low and desperate, full of longing, when those fingers brushed between her legs. 

Please be real, please be real, please be real. 

This was real, right? She might have asked the question out loud, but she didn’t get an answer, not as Bellatrix’s mouth moved to her ear, catching the lobe between her teeth and pulling a bit. 

If this wasn’t real, Hermione didn’t ever want to wake up. 

“Hermione?” A voice that was most definitely not Bellatrix’s said, over and over, and a weird sensation was spreading through her shoulder, even though Bellatrix’s hands or mouth was nowhere near there. 

What was going on? 

None of it was making sense, but Bellatrix’s hands were slipping under the waistband of her pants and- 

“Hermione, can you hear me?” She knew that voice, where did she know that voice from? “Hermione, open your eyes.”

She did. It felt like walking through chest level muck, but she managed to drag her eyes open, blinking into the harsh light that flooded her brain and kept doing so until the objects around her came into focus. 

The cat was there. God, she was dreaming again. Why couldn’t she stay with Bellatrix?

“Hermione?” That voice. She looked from the cat to the owner of the voice. It was Dorcas, standing before the bed, the cat sitting regal on the end table beside her. “You with us?” 

She tried to speak, but no words came out, just a rough croak of her voice. Her body felt off, light headed and heavy all at the same time. She just wanted to close her eyes again. 

“It’s the potions,” Dorcas said, her voice too loud and too annoying and too everything. Hermione wanted to sleep. “You’ll feel funny while it fades from your system. Drink this, it should help clear your head a bit.” 

A cool metal cup was pressed against her mouth, and she drank the liquid greedily, not even processing the vileness of the contents until it had already worked its way down her throat. She gagged, but the horrid potion stay down. 

“Give it a few minutes to work. We don’t want to keep drugging you, we need you conscious to tell us what hurts.” 

“Everything,” Hermione groaned immediately. Her thigh ached, each breath felt like she was swallowing glass. Her shoulder was the worst though, a sensation not unlike fire shooting through her veins if she so much as moved wrong. And her hazy brain. Had she hit her head recently? “My shoulder,” she amended, forcing the words out. 

“You had a pretty nasty cut. I’m not surprised it’s bothering you. It’s only been a day, but it should fade soon. I’ll give you something else that won’t knock you on your ass.” 

One day? Certainly that couldn’t be true. It felt like.. like weeks had passed. Was school even still in session? 

“One day?” She mumbled, looking at the cat. 

The cat nodded. 

Oh, god, she _was_ still dreaming. 

“We figured it would happen,” Dorcas said, moving Hermione’s shirt to the side to look at her shoulder. “Your injuries were a bit concerning. Your adrenaline must have been _pumping_ to not feel it.” 

There was... something had happened. Something big, that was the cause for her injury. She remember... slamming into something hard. A wall, maybe? And a lot of screaming, maybe her own? But, she remembered after too, bits and pieces, foggy in her mind, of Bella and Andy and Cygnus Black _and_ \- 

“Drink more. You need to clear your head.” The cup was back against her mouth, and she swallowed quickly, the second round of whatever potion doing much more to lift the haziness than the first. 

It came back slowly, but it did come back. The vacation house, the spell, Bella and Andromeda and Narcissa, the former two seriously hurt, the latter nowhere to be seen. 

_Murderer_. 

The thought slammed into her, knocking the breath from her as it all rushed in painfully. She had killed them. She had killed multiple people. 

_Murderer_. 

She shoved that away. Now was not the time to dwell on her own problems, not when she needed to know about her friends. Even if tears threatened to spill over her eyes, even if she hated every single part of herself right now, there were more important matters to attend to. 

“Where is Bella?” She asked quickly, panic rising in her even as she blushed, recalling the memory that was _definitely_ a dream, even if now was absolutely not the time to think of such things. 

“Asleep still. We’re keeping her asleep for a little while longer. Her injuries were... severe. Andromeda is out too. We’ll wake her up in a little bit. We wanted to wake you first. You were the least injured, even if there was a decent amount to fix. But you’re fine? Aside from your shoulder?” 

In the physical sense? Sure. She’d recover. In the mental, emotional sense? That was still up in the air. 

Hermione nodded anyway, turning her head past the cat (that she now recognized as McGonagall, and felt silly for not realizing so earlier) to look at the other bed, finding Andromeda asleep as Dorcas had said, pale and unmoving and bruised, small cuts littering her body. Hermione watched the slow and consistent rise and fall of the girl’s chest. 

Good. Good, she was healing. 

Hermione wondered how she herself looked, and decided she probably didn’t want to know, not right now. 

“The Order will want to talk to you later, but for now, keep drinking this, and I’ll bring you something for your shoulder. McGonagall will get us if you need anything,” Dorcas nodded to the cat, who did indeed nod her furry little head in the affirmative. Just as Dorcas was about to leave the room, she turned to look at Hermione and said, a bit quietly, “It’s a relief to see you’re okay, Hermione.” 

* * *

Everything hurt.

Sometime not long after Dorcas had left, Hermione had slipped back into unconsciousness, though this time without the hazy, unintelligible dreams those potions created in her mind. When she woke up later, she was much more coherent and aware than previously, and took the time to finally look over her abused body. 

She’d taken more damage from the explosion than she’d initially realized, most of the pain not setting in all the way due to adrenaline, but as she looked now she could see how serious it truly was. It took her battered body a significant amount of effort to slide herself into a sitting position to inspect the rest of her body.

Slowly, she moved her hand up to brush her fingers against the wrappings on her shoulder, staring at the small cuts and bruises littering her hand and forearm as she did so. The bandages were rough and scratchy against her skin, and she wanted to peel them back to see how bad the cut had been, though she doubted it would look anywhere near as worrisome now than before the potions and magic had had time to treat it. 

Aside from her bandaged shoulder, there were more gauzes on her thigh, along with even more abrasions. She gingerly poked a nasty bruise near her ankle and quietly hissed at the tiny burst of pain.

Her ribs ached at every movement she made, and so she resigned herself to leaning back against the wall and closing her eyes, taking a moment to breathe deeply as all the aches in her body slowly resided.

“About time you’re awake. I was very bored,” a low, slightly raspy voice said, and despite the unusual distortion, Hermione felt a part of her relax at the sound as she turned her head to look at Andromeda, propped up on some pillows in the opposite bed. 

Hermione started to cry. 

“Ack,” the dark haired girl rolled her eyes as she made the sound. “Don’t do that. I know you’re obsessed with me, but this is too far.”

Hermione couldn't help the laugh that slipped free, raspy and slightly broken sounded, but her first laugh in a week. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” she breathed, tears finally spilling over and gliding down her face. “You scared the hell out of me!”

“So I’ve been told.” Andromeda nodded, her face going solemn. “Thank you, Hermione, for coming for us. I didn’t- thank you.” 

Didn’t what? Didn’t think Hermione would come with the rescue, or didn’t think there’d be a rescue at all? Hermione didn’t want to think about that.

Hermione said, instead of asking any of those questions, “What would I do without you annoying me everyday? Or Narcissa being her lovely, friendly self.” 

Andromeda smiled, but said, “Bella is healing tool, but-” she cut herself off and Hermione’s pulse spiked, a look of fear most definitely coming across her face for Andromeda hurriedly added, “She hasn’t woken up yet. I just woke up about an hour or so ago.”

Alive. The words slammed through Hermione. Bellatrix is alive. Still unconscious, but alive. She’d wake up soon.

Now there was just the matter of-

Hermione still couldn’t even think the words, let alone get them out.

_Murderer_.

Andromeda must have read the look on her face, for she grabbed a news paper on the table beside her bed and held it up. “You should read this.”

Hermione magicked the paper over, holding her breath the entire time as her mind raced with the possibilities of what the Daily Prophet could hold, what horrors they would say about what had happened.

She didn’t need to wonder for long, as it was on the front page

**TRAGEDY STRIKES SACRED TWENTY-EIGHT FAMILY’S VACATION HOME. SUSPECTS AT LARGE**

_Sometime in the middle of the night, a group of dark wizards stormed the property of Cygnus Black the Third in Italy, during a family getaway with his wife, Druella Black, and their three daughters; Black heir, Bellatrix, and his two underaged children, Andromeda and Narcissa. Four visiting relatives were in the home at the time of the attack. No arrests have been made, and Aurors are stumped on who is response for such a heinous and unjust crime._

_The home suffered grave damages following an explosive spell on the top level that destroyed much of the structural support and architecture. Cygnus Black the Third and two relatives were seriously injured, and have been treated at St. Mungo’s. All are expected to make recover._

_There is no word yet of the fate of Cygnus’ wife Druella, nor about their three children. They were not reported to have been seen at St. Mungo’s with their father and relatives, and are assumed to have been spared any injuries and are currently with their mother. Check for further updates to see if the status of the children and wife of Cygnus Black the Third has changed_.

Hermione read the article once, then a second and a third time until the words finally resonated in her brain. Cygnus was alive. Injured severely enough to warrant a trip to St. Mungo’s, but he was alive, and would recover.

She hadn’t killed him. She wasn’t a murderer.

Tears pricked her eyes once more as the weight of those worries left her body, and she leaned her head back against the wall, letting out a sigh of relief.

“There haven’t been any updates?” She turned to look at Andromeda as she asked, finding the girl already watching her. “Nothing more about you three?” 

“Everything’s been quiet. Whatever is happening with our father, they don’t want it to be public knowledge. And for whatever reason, they don’t want it out we’re not with our parents.” Andromeda’s eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, as if she were working out all the bad things that statement could mean like Hermione was. 

There were dozens of reasons Cygnus could have for wanting the Wizarding World to know his daughters were not with him, and none of them could mean anything positive for them.

Hermione would think on it later. As of now, she put all thoughts of Cygnus to the back of her mind, more than content to know she was not a murderer.

“No one died. Moody told Cissy, Cissy told me. Then I read the paper,” Andromeda further explained. “None of us died, on either side. A few of us took some injuries, but we’ll all walk away. Even my father.” As she spoke, there was an odd tone of voice Hermione couldn’t quite place on the end of the sentence, as if Andromeda wasn’t thrilled her father had survived.

Not that Hermione could blame her, given the state she was in when they all found them.

She’d need to ask Andromeda about it soon, offer to be a shoulder to lean or cry on should the girl need it, but she knew now was not the time.

Not there was time to say as much, as their private moment ended when the door quietly opened, and Hermione felt that tension ease slightly more at the first sign of blonde hair.

Aside from the light bags under her eyes, highlighted by the pale skin, Narcissa looked as normal as ever, hair immaculate unlike her sisters, skin clear of cuts or bruises, and Hermione couldn’t be more thankful the youngest Black had seemingly not suffered the same fate as Bellatrix or Andromeda.

“You’re awake,” Narcissa said simply as she walked closer to them, handing Andromeda a cup and passing another to Hermione. “Drink it. It’ll help the remnants of pain. I was going to leave it here until you woke up, but drink it now.” 

“Yes, mom,” Andromeda grumbled as she brought the cup to her mouth, grimacing as she swallowed. Evidently, it was not a tasty potion, and Hermione held her breath as she drank her quickly, nearly gagging at the acid taste burning its way down her throat.

But she could already feel it taking effect. That tight knot in her shoulder eased just a bit, the non-ignorable burst of pain shifting to a throb. A feeling of calm took over her body, and she could already feel her eyelids drooping, blearily watching as Andromeda’s did the same.

* * *

When she woke up again, she decided she was getting very tired of sleeping so much, even if her body felt better every time she woke up. 

Andromeda was still asleep, but she looked better already. Healthier. Hermione let out a soft sigh and checked her own body over. The bandage on her thigh was there still, and when she peeled the top back, the wound was closed, nothing more than a puffy scar, so she unwrapped the bandage and placed it on the end table. 

That bad bruise on her ankle was now a yellowed-green, and her shoulder was almost fully moveable. It was stiff, and she’d need to wiggle it for a while before she felt it was 100%, but the pain was basically nonexistent now. 

Thank Merlin for magic potions. She didn’t even want to consider the pain she’d be in now if she had to be treated the muggle way. 

Had only a few hours passed, or were more days slipping by unnoticed to her? A weak light was coming through the blinds on the window, enough to suggest it was early morning. When she’d last been awake it was dark out. Hopefully it had only been a few hours since then. Unfortunately, McGonagall had disappeared at some point, so she couldn’t ask. 

Luckily, she didn’t need to wait long, for Narcissa was coming back into the room, carrying a water bottle and a steaming bowl of something. 

Hermione didn’t miss the relieved look that passed the blonde’s face quickly before being replaced by her regular indifference. The thirteen year old came to a stop beside the bed, setting both the bottle and the bowl (which Hermione could now see was some type of soup) on the table. 

“Moody sent me to check on you, and see if I could get you to eat.” Narcissa motioned to the bowl, and Hermione slowly reached out for it, not wanting to jerk her shoulder too badly. “It’s chicken noodle. Did you know muggles have it in _cans_? How completely barbaric.” 

“Thank you, Narcissa,” Hermione laughed, taking a slow and tentative bite of the soup. She hadn’t realized until just now how terribly hungry she actually was, and she ate the food as quickly as she dared, loving the warmth of it on her throat and stomach. 

Narcissa stayed the entire time she ate, almost fussing over Hermione as she did so, but remained quiet. It wasn’t until she had finished the soup and set it down that the younger girl spoke up. 

“You didn’t need to save all of us,” she said slowly, staring directly into Hermione’s eyes. “I know you’re just supposed to stop Bella from becoming a Death Eater, but- what you did for us... none of us will soon forget it.”

Hermione didn’t think any of them would be forgetting the last few days events anytime soon, but she knew that wasn't what Narcissa meant. 

“There wasn’t...” words seemed to be hard for the girl, but Hermione remained patient, letting Narcissa figure out what she needed to say. “Bellatrix is the only person that looks out for Andromeda or I like that. It’s... nice to know you’d do the same. That you have done the same. Andy told me that you threw yourself on top of her when the ceiling started coming down.” 

“Narcissa-” 

“I see the way you look at her,” Narcissa said before Hermione could finish her sentence, not bothering to specify that they were no longer talking about Andromeda. “And how she looks at you. I’m... glad she has you. And I'm glad we have you as well.” 

“I’m glad I have you guys, truly, I am,” Hermione responded dumbly, unsure of where to go from here. Narcissa had never been so open with her, but she was thankful it was happening now. “And I’ll always fight for you and them. And not only- not only because of how I feel for her. But because you and Andromeda matter so much to me as well.” 

“I’m aware.” Narcissa shrugged and stood up, her face no longer showing any sort of sincerity. Bonding moment over then. Got it. 

Hermione still couldn’t help the smile as Narcissa pointed to the water bottle and rudely demanded she finish the whole thing. 

* * *

It was hours later, well into the early afternoon, that Hermione finally felt comfortable enough in her current state to get out of bed. Narcissa was there, and though she didn’t voice any objections, Hermione could see the girl was taunt with worry that something would happen. 

Nothing did happen, thankfully, and Hermione was able to make it to the bathroom unaided, her body close to full strength thanks to the multitude of potions, and when she was done she took the time to truly look over her body. 

The scar on her thigh was definitely noticeable, pink and puffy and smooth to the touch, but Hermione didn’t care about her skin, given that scars already tarnished it. It was just another sign that she had survived. 

Her shoulder was in a similar way, the scar thicker and longer, going from the edge of her collarbone to her armpit. She had no idea what had even hit her at the vacation house. Had been too distracted to notice any of it, but with all of the falling debris it could have been anything. Most likely a piece of ceiling, if she had to guess. 

It didn't matter. She’d take all of the scars if it meant her and the people she cared about walked away to live another day. Even the people she didn’t care about, even Cygnus and the others. They walked away too. She hadn’t killed them. 

She’d been repeating that in her head over and over again, relishing the that it was true. As much as she loathed Cygnus Black, as much as she had previously wished him dead, the thought that she had _done_ that was too much.

Hermione finished up in the bathroom after washing her face and brushing her teeth, those two small actions making her feel infinitely better, and was about to slowly walk back to her room when she saw the slight crack in Bellatrix’s door. 

Maybe she’d just pop in for a moment... 

Bellatrix was on her back, arms curled under the pillow, hair tangled but cleaned of the dirt and blood that had caked it the night before. The blanket had slipped down to her waist, revealing the expanse of her back that had Hermione’s steps stuttering until she stopped completely, halfway to the bed. Whoever had cared for Bellatrix’s injuries had stripped her of her dress to have a clear view of her back, and had placed many gauzes all over the skin to cover the multitude of wounds.

That had been why she was standing funny, holding herself in an odd way. By the looks of the wrappings, her back had been torn to shreds before the battle even began. And still she stood there, still she fought for them. Hermione held back a cry as she forced herself to take step after step, sitting on the edge as gently as she could so to not disturb the sleeping girl.

Hermione couldn’t help but reach one hand out, softly tracing the outline of the bandage closest to her, feeling the soft, warm skin beneath her fingertips.

_Real, real, real_. She was real, she was here, she was _alive_.

That last little bit of tension that had stayed with her since last night finally eased as she continued to move her hand around the bandages, her touch staying light.

A sudden rasp of, “Quite a dramatic spell, hm, dragon-rider?” had tears immediately springing to her eyes, made worse as Bellatrix slowly turned and sat up, Hermione offering her the blanket quickly to cover her bare chest.

Her eyes were hazy with sleep and whatever potions they’d been giving her, her skin still paler than normal, a few scrapes on her face, but- she was perfect. Everything inch of her was perfect. And alive. Perfect and alive.

Hermione didn’t think as she jerked forward and kissed her, soft despite the suddenness of her actions. She could feel her tears leaking onto Bellatrix’s cheeks, but she just cried harder at the sensation of Bellatrix kissing back, one hand coming up to grip the back of Hermione’s neck.

They pulled away after a moment, Hermione staying close enough that their noses nearly touched. “I thought I lost you,” she confessed, her voice little more than an embarrassing sob.

Of course Bellatrix grinned at that, leaning forward to wrap her lips around Hermione’s bottom one, pulling it into her mouth as she moved backwards, releasing it with an audible ‘pop’. “You should know by now I am invincible. Impossible to kill.”

“Like a cockroach,” Hermione whispered, a smile breaking out across her face at Bellatrix’s affronted cough. “Please, never scare me like that again. Any of you.” 

“Life gets boring without a bit of action, does it not?” Bellatrix chuckled before sobering up. “You’ve seen Andy and Cissy, then? They’re fine?” 

“Fine, both of them. You saw Andromeda before the... explosion, and that worsened her injuries, but they treated her. She’s asleep in our room right now. Narcissa is with her, who,” Hermione let herself laugh, laughing as she continued to cry, “is quite the mother-hen.”

Bellatrix rolled her eyes, shifting slightly in an attempt to get more comfortable and hissing at the pain that must have wracked through her body. “Annoying, isn’t she?”

Hermione laughed again and again. “Yes,” she admitted, “she is. It’s endearing, though.” She looked over the dark witch before her, taking her in once more, letting her eyes roam over the exposed skin of her shoulders and forearms, the years of built up muscle from Quidditch, and all the tiny scars that littered her body. The words “You’re beautiful,” slipped out before she could stop it, and Bellatrix’s grin shifted to something cockier and far more attractive.

“I’m aware,” Bellatrix husked, her eyes darker than moments before, and the dip of her gaze was the only indication of her plans before she leaned forward to press her mouth against Hermione’s once more. 

It was obvious Bellatrix wanted to deepen the kiss by the way her tongue kept prodding Hermione's mouth, and by how she kept lightly scratching the base of Hermione’s neck. Both actions were, admittedly, quite enjoyable, and it took Hermione more effort than she was ready to acknowledge to pull away. But she knew she needed to. Bellatrix was too injured for anything aside from a light peck, which Hermione placed apologetically on her mouth.

That didn’t stop Bellatrix from glaring at her when she pulled away, though, even as Hermione tucked a wild strand of hair behind the girl’s ear. “You’re still hurt, and- uh, shirtless.” Hermione blushed deeply as she said it, suddenly unable to look Bellatrix in the eyes any longer as she jerked from the bed, the action jolting her healing injuries enough that she hissed. “I should- get you a shirt. You need a shirt. Where is your shirt?”

“Granger,” Bellatrix said, watching Hermione move around the room in a slow shuffle, trying to find the article of clothing. “Granger, sit down.” 

“I should tell the others you’re awake, actually, now that I think about it. I should have done that first. Do you hurt? Did I hurt you? Do you need a potion?” Hermione was... slightly panicking, and she wasn’t even entirely sure why. 

Bellatrix shifted as much as her wounds and the blanket covering her chest would allow her to do, her eyebrows pulled down as she stared at Hermione. “Sit down.” When Hermione didn’t listen to the command, Bellatrix sighed with a roll of her eyes, the action not going unnoticed by Hermione. “Granger,” she repeated. “Come back here. Calm down.” 

“I- can’t.” Hermione ran a hand through her hair, the fingers getting caught on a few different knots. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why this is happening.” 

It took Bellatrix holding out her hand to Hermione for the brunette to still long enough to grab it, already feeling herself start to relax at the contact. Bellatrix pulled her back down onto the bed, the effort weak and nothing compared to the strength she usually possessed.

“Relax, Hermione,” Bellatrix said, voice uncharacteristically gentle as she tugged Hermione once more, soft and slow, until Hermione was laying beside her on the bed, the only thing separating their bodies from touching being the blanket, both girls facing one another on their sides. “You didn't hurt me.” 

“I just... I’m so sorry, Bella,” Hermione finally broke, tears once more flooding her eyes as she began to cry in earnest. “I’m so sorry.” 

Bellatrix looked slightly bewildered at the sudden change of emotion, and she awkwardly patted Hermione’s shoulder. “Uh- you’re fine?” She sounded so unsure and unlike herself, it was almost comical. “Why are you crying? Why are you apologizing?” 

“I didn't get to you guys in time,” Hermione confessed quietly, her crying distorting her words slightly, making them come out in a weird hiccup. “I didn’t- you had to stay with your father for a week and he- he _hurt_ you both. I’m so sorry I couldn’t-” 

“Stop it.” Bellatrix’s voice was hard, firm enough that it caught Hermione’s attention, startling her enough that her crying momentarily paused. “What happened has nothing to do with you. Do not cry because of him, or over me.” 

“But-”

“No. My father is a horrid, wretched man, and my mother is just as terrible for abiding by it for all these years. None of that had anything to do with you.” 

“Bella-” 

“What happened, happened. Nothing can change that. You came, and because of you, Hermione, my sisters are finally safe.” Bellatrix looked away for a moment before looking back. “Thank you for that. Thank you for protecting them.” She scrunched up her nose. “Stop crying. You don’t look good.” 

Hermione whacked her, and Bellatrix chuckled, a small grin on her face as she took the gentle hit. In return, she pressed a kiss to the corner of Hermione’s mouth, once, twice, all short and sweet and gentle. 

“I’m not leaving,” Hermione said quickly, all rushed words barely thought out. “I’m not. I’m staying here. In this timeline. With you. With Andromeda and Narcissa. I can’t- I can’t go back to my time, not when.. not when I feel how I do about you.” 

Confessing how she felt had never been one of Hermione’s strong suits. She was logical, factual. Not driven by emotion, but Bellatrix had always been able to get her to act on emotion, be it good or bad, nothing with Bella had ever had anything to do with logical 

Better to get it out now, when she was already emotional from everything that had happened. “I know I’ve already said it, but so much has happened since then, so...I want to stay here with you. I’m _going_ to stay here with you. If.. you want that.” The ending was much less sure than she wanted, coming out as a weak question instead of a statement. 

But there was a blush on Bellatrix’s cheeks, faint and barely noticeable, but Hermione had always been able to notice every small thing about Bellatrix. Still, the dark witch’s grinned turned mocking, and she said, “You are very clingy.” 

Hermione whacked her again. 

But the response was all Hermione needed to hear. She was able to understand the underlaying meaning of the teasing joke. Even if it wasn’t really a joke. 

She was staying. She wouldn’t be going back to her timeline. 

This was where she belonged. 

* * *

At some point after Hermione had confessed she had no intentions of retuning to her timeline, they’d both succumbed to their exhaustion and fallen back asleep. Bellatrix had done so first, and Hermione couldn’t find it in herself to leave, not when she had only just gotten her back. So she shifted the blanket to cover both of them, careful not to look at or touch Bellatrix’s bare chest, before she closed her eyes as well. 

When she woke up, she was warm. Very warm. That was most definitely caused by the girl still asleep beside her, taking up most of the bed and keeping Hermione trapped between her and the wall. Bellatrix had spread out sometime during their nap, asleep on her back with her side pressed entirely against Hermione, her legs towards the edge, black hair all over the place.

Hermione let herself run her fingers through the mess of it, perfectly content with watching her sleep. _Alive_ , her brain kept screaming at her. Bellatrix was alive, as mouthy and cocky as ever, and asleep right beside her. She could do this for the rest of the day.

The peace was quickly ruined when the door opened.

“Bella, are you- oh.” 

Hermione jerked her head up to look at the grinning face of Andromeda.

Immediately, she said, “Do not-”

Andromeda’s grin only grew, despite the fatigue still evident. “Have fun?” 

“Andy-” 

“For two people who looked so rough when I last saw you, you sure did-”

“Do not finish that sentence.” 

“I’m just-”

“Get out!” Hermione laughed as she yelled as loud as she dared so to not wake Bellatrix, her cheeks fiery hot from embarrassment. Underneath the feeling of annoyance from Andromeda’s teasing, Hermione didn’t think she had ever felt more relieved at seeing her friend standing there. It was such a change from before, when she had been so hurt she couldn’t stand on her own. There were very few lingering reminders of the injuries, save for some bruising near her mouth and eyes, and the pallid skin tone.

The younger girl put her hands up good-naturedly, the grin on her face one so similar to Bellatrix’s. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. For now. I had to beg Cissy to even let me walk this far, you know. I’m supposed to see if Bellatrix has woken up.” 

"She was awake earlier for a little bit before we both fell asleep again,” Hermione said, her cheeks still hot with all Andromeda had implied. It was quite clear how it looked to an outsider, especially someone like Andromeda, given that Bellatrix was shirtless and they were in bed together and- 

Okay, no. 

She wasn’t finishing the thought, not when her body was quickly heating up. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked, both to distract herself and out of genuine concern. “Are you sure you should be standing?” 

Andromeda rolled her eyes, walking farther into the room and slowly sitting down on the empty bed, shifting until her back was resting against the wall to hold most of her weight. “You sound like Cissy. I don’t need two of you.”

“Forgive us for being worried about you, you prat,” Hermione quipped. 

“I’m feeling better. My head is finally clear and most of the injuries are gone,” the mouthy fifth year finally answer. She jerked her head towards where Bellatrix remained asleep beside Hermione. “How is she?” 

Hermione couldn’t help but trail a finger down Bellatrix’s bare shoulder, the touch feather light to stop from accidentally hurting her. “She was better earlier. As rude and insulting as ever, so.” 

“So the Bella we all love and only mildly want to murder.” 

“Exactly,” Hermione let out a quiet laugh. “You should get back to bed.” 

“Good to see you’re back to your annoying self as well.” 

“I’d hex you if you wouldn’t collapse from it.”

Andromeda’s laughter could still be heard as she walked down the hall and Hermione used magic to close the door without leaving the warmth and comforter of the bed and Bellatrix. She just snuggled down closer against the girl and closed her eyes once more.

They were all alive. Hermione was staying. Her and Bellatrix could figure out... whatever it was they needed to figure out. All of that was more than enough for Hermione right now. The rest she could face later, and it was all the easier knowing she had her family on her side. 


	19. XIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully this chapter makes up for taking so long

Hermione took one look at Bellatrix as she marched towards them and scoffed. “No. Absolutely not. Not happening.”

“I wasn’t aware you made my decisions for me, _Potter_ ,” Bellatrix snapped back as she brushed past, though Hermione did not miss the slight twitch of a grin. “I am perfectly capable of- watch it!” She was cut off as Hermione snatched the broom from her hand, holding it tightly to make sure the stupid dark witch couldn’t get it back. “Give me back my broom. I am practicing with the team.”

“No. You aren’t. Your back is still healing. Don’t be stupid and mess that up so you can play a quick match.” Hermione was undeterred as she stared right back at Bellatrix while the rest of the team gathered around them, most likely a bit unsure of the outcome. They all still remembered who volatile one of the girls fights could easily become. “You can sit on the bench and watch. You do not need to play.”

Apparently deciding that he did not want to see their brewing argument come to blows (and, just because Hermione and her have kissed a few times, and Bellatrix is the contending factor for staying in this timeline, did not mean Hermione suddenly lost all urge to hex her), Steve stepped up to intervene. “Potter’s right, B, you’re still recovering. We can’t afford for you to get hurt more and miss anymore games.” He dropped a hand lightly on Bellatrix’s shoulder, who was quick to shrug him off, though he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the action. “We need you whole for the championship match, you know that. We kick ass. Also, mainly, we can't forfeit another one.” 

While the team had, of course, been thrilled to see Bellatrix and her sisters back in school, all of them had been less than thrilled at the fact that her’s, and then Hermione’s, absence had forced them to forfeit the last match. It was against Hufflepuff, and given how close all the houses were in points, every single game mattered. All sitting out did was given Ravenclaw that much more of a lead in first. 

No one had been happy about it, but none of them had voiced that dissatisfaction, not when no one truly understood what had gone down while Hermione and them had been gone. Everyone, team members included, knew only what that one Prophet paper had written: there was an attack at the Black’s vacation home, and Cygnus had been injured, with no mention of the daughters. Naturally, the school rumor mill had been quick to action, and no one seemed to know what to do when they all returned to the castle, still a bit bruised and battered, and tight lipped about the entire ordeal four days ago. 

After the attack, Hermione and the Black sisters had spent three days at Order headquarters, and by the time Moody and Dumbledore declared the four of them fit enough (and the conditions safe enough) to return to school, none of them had complained. Hermione was already stressed over the amount of catch up work they’d all need to do, Bellatrix was furious over the missed Quidditch game, Andromeda was tired of them all fussing over her and Bellatrix, and Narcissa was snappier than usual, despite still insisting Andy and Bella were not strong enough to do things on their own just yet. 

All in all, it resulted in many screaming matches between the girls over the three days, and Hermione was more than ready to return to her bed in the castle and actually get a peaceful night’s rest, though she doubted that would happen. The constant thoughts of Cygnus Black, the impending First War, and Bellatrix kept her up more often than not, and if she were being honest with herself she didn’t know which one weighed more heavily on her head. 

The First War, as terrible as it would sound, was honestly her least pressing matter. She knew, no matter what actions she took, it would happen. She knew the outcome as well, as horrible as it was to think of the pain it would cause her friend one day. Harry’s parents had to die, she knew that, it was a fact she could not risk changing, but the more she thought of it, the more she realized there were other things she absolutely could, and will, risk changing. 

So no, the War was not her most pressing matter, not right now at least. She knew soon it would become undeniable, a battle she could not ignore, but right now it was at the back of her mind. 

Cygnus Black, even, while completely nerve-racking to think about, did not cause her nearly as much grief as thinking of Bellatrix did. He was a threat, and an unpredictable one. History couldn’t tell her how that would play out like it did with the War. History hadn’t accounted for her coming back and getting Bellatrix and Narcissa and Andy on their side. So History had no idea what Cygnus Black had in store for them, and that set Hermione on edge. 

And yet, she thought she’d still rather face that than deal with Bellatrix and their budding... whatever it was. 

Her claim to stay in this timeline was true, no matter how much the thought of never seeing her friends and family (at least, in the way she knew them now) was. She was giving up everything, risking everything, for a shot at what? What were they? Bellatrix hadn’t mentioned it, and while she did kiss Hermione more than a few times while they were alone over the three days at headquarters, neither one of them had brought it up again. 

It also didn’t help that, no matter how much Hermione and the Order had questioned them, none of the Black sisters had given any sort of information about what happened during that week they were gone. Narcissa had provided some preliminary information (who was involved, which of her family members to blame, where she thought her father might go now, what she thought he could be up to), but no one had mentioned what everyone was dying to know; what Cygnus did to Bellatrix and Andromeda. 

Even Andy, usually so opened and talkative, had all but shoved Hermione away when she tried to gently pry for information, and Hermione hadn’t been able to bring it up again, to either of them. It would seem that this part of their lives, at least for the time being, would remain closed off to Hermione. 

She told herself it didn’t matter. She knew it wasn’t about them not trusting her, but more to do with this was their way of dealing with things. If she knew either girl as well as she thought she did, she knew they were both compartmentalizing their trauma. And would throw themselves into whatever they could to distract from it. For Andy, that her relationship with Teddy. And for Bella? 

Quidditch. 

“I say if Bellatrix is stupid enough to try and keep up with us, let her,” Sebastian laughed as he spoke, and move too quickly for Hermione to counter as he took Bellatrix’s broom. “It’s been too long since we’ve all played together.” 

It was barely two weeks, but Hermione had to admit it felt like months. She had come to love the game, love early morning practices, and going so long without their team being complete had thrown her and the others off kilter. That didn’t mean she’d cave easily about this though. Bellatrix’s safety took priority over any pointless sport. 

“Steve agrees with me, Bella. Think it through- are you truly going to risk hurting yourself and delaying recovery in the long run for a quick match right now, just to prove me wrong?” 

Bellatrix didn’t even take the time to think on it. “Yes.” 

“You’re insufferable,” Hermione hissed as she rolled her eyes, throwing up her hands. “Fine. If you want to be idiotic, don’t come running to me when you get hurt.” 

Steve and the others laughed at that, and as they walked away towards the field Hermione caught him giving Bellatrix a worrying look, but that immediately went out the window when Bellatrix whispered in her ear, “But will you kiss my wounds, dragon-rider?” 

Hermione’s cheeks flushed and her heart picked up quickly, but she merely repeated, “Insufferable,” as she whacked Bellatrix with the top of her broom and the two walked quickly to catch up to the others. 

Two hours later, Bellatrix proudly limped past them all at the end of practice. She even had the gall to throw a roguish wink at Hermione as she did so, despite the prominent way she favored one side over the other. 

A hand slapping Hermione in the back forced her attention from watching Bellatrix walk away, and she turned to find Steve and Victoria standing behind her. Victoria had one hand loosely wrapped around Steve’s arm, both of them a bit muddied from practice, with Victoria’s hair slipping from its braid in some spots. 

“Looks like you have your work cut out for you, huh?” Steve smiled as he spoke, looking from Hermione to where Bellatrix had disappeared off to. 

Hermione’s exasperated grin slipped a bit. “I don’t-” 

“There aren’t many people who B would let just take her broom like that. Or, let them talk to her like you do. She’s... unpredictable at best, downright terrifying at worst. We love her, but...” he laughed and continued. “Hopefully you’re better at relationships than you are at being a Chaser.” 

As the words settled around her, Hermione didn’t know whether to let the panic set in at someone bringing up her and Bellatrix’s relationship, or offense for being mocked for lacking Chasing skills. “What, uh, what-” 

Victoria, it seemed, was not someone to try and play unaware with. She left Steve’s side and came closer to Hermione, that pretty grin on her face. “We all see how you stare at you,” she laughed, not a single hint of judgement in her tone. “Not to mention how she’s been salivating after you like a dog for months now. It was only a matter of time.” She gave one playful look over her shoulder to Steve. “Steve wanted to make sure you guys knew that whatever happens doesn’t interfere with our championship win. I wanted to tell you congratulations. It truly is about time.” 

“I said good for them as well, Victoria,” Steve butt in, moving closer to both girls now. “Really, Hermione, whatever you two have going on, we do hope you’re happy. We all know she needs a bit of happiness in her life right now.” 

* * *

“I think being kidnapped should justify being excused from homework for the rest of the year,” Andromeda grumbled as she stared down at her assignment. It was arithmancy, and Hermione and her had gone to an empty classroom together to study. Narcissa had found them next, giving no explanation for how she had known they were there, no matter how much either girl asked, and she just told them to shut up and get their work done while she did her own. 

Bellatrix didn’t show up for another hour, and when she did, she was changed out of their uniform and into a plain black dress, the sleeves dipping a bit over onto her hands. She said nothing to them as she dropped into the empty desk beside Hermione’s, though she made no effort to start any assignments. 

“Are you actually here to work, Bella, or are you distracting us?” Narcissa asked as she stared at her sister, who was in the process of twirling her wand around her knuckles. “Shouldn’t you be catching up on work?” 

“I’m all caught up,” Bellatrix responded, sounding entirely offended Narcissa had thought anything less. “Unlike the three of you, I actually care about school.” She grinned at Hermione as she said that, which earned her a quill tossed to her chest. She gently tossed it back onto Hermione’s desk. “What, am I wrong?” 

“You’re entirely wrong, you annoying prat,” Hermione huffed as she tried to focus on her work. She could feel her motivation slipping the longer Bellatrix remained beside her, playing with her wand, feet now kicked up onto the desk. It didn’t take her long to drop the quill and shift so she was looking at Bellatrix. 

She had meant to speak, meant to tell Bellatrix she needed to leave, or move away, because whenever she was in close proximity, Hermione lost all ability to properly function, but... But it was so hard to focus when Bellatrix looked like _that_. When her hair was wild and partially in her face, when her bottom lip was pulled beneath her teeth as she stared at her wand. It _really_ didn’t help that Hermione knew what it felt like to be kissed by that mouth, or how it felt to have those hands running up her sides and stomach. 

It didn’t make matters any better that her conversation with Steve and Victoria the day before was still circling in her mind. They knew about whatever it was her and Bellatrix were doing, and they’d jokingly wished her luck. She didn’t imagine there would truly be any sort of backlash from dating (it wasn’t dating, they weren’t dating, right? Dating meant... she didn’t know what it really meant, but a few rushed and handsy kisses could not count as dating), but it still felt nice to have someone acknowledge their relationship and even encourage it.

“You’re blushing, Granger,” Bellatrix said lowly, voice little more than a gruff whisper as she turned to watch Hermione watch her. “Blushing and staring. Dare I ask what you’re thinking of?” 

Andromeda and Narcissa, bless them, pretended they couldn’t hear as they focused entirely on their schoolwork. 

Hermione felt emboldened. “You.” 

Bellatrix didn’t hesitate to drop her feet from the desk and lean forward. “Andy, Cissy,” she said without taking her eyes off of Hermione, “Go find somewhere else to be.” 

“What?” Narcissa huffed, annoyance clear on her gorgeous features. “You came to us. You two find somewhere else to be.” 

Hermione could tell this would be an argument neither sister backed down from, and she wasn’t in the mood to listen, not when suddenly all she think of was Bellatrix’s hands on her waist and her mouth on her’s. She pulled at Bella’s hand as she stood up. “We’re going for a walk. Andy, can you bring my school things back to the common room?” 

Rationally, she knew they were being annoying and inappropriate, and she would have bet galleons that Andromeda would be making fun of her later, but she just wanted Bellatrix right now. She’d deal with the mockery later. Mercifully, Andromeda agreed to the request with little comment, and soon Hermione and Bellatrix were saying their rushed goodbyes as they left the room and started walking through the empty halls. 

They hadn’t been walking for too long before Bellatrix broke the silence by saying, “You’re a terrible influence, Ms. Granger. Here I was, trying to study, and you-” 

That broke a laugh from Hermione. “ _I’m_ the terrible influence? Odd, how we were all perfectly content studying until you showed up, and distracted us all.” They rounded a corner, and Hermione nearly stumbled when she felt Bellatrix slip her hand into her’s. “You almost made me fall.” 

“I think you tripped yourself,” Bellatrix grinned, the same one that Hermione had found so incredibly infuriating when they first met, and now couldn’t get enough of. Looking at her now made her stomach flip in the best way, and she tugged playfully on Bellatrix’s warm hand. She could feel a bit of calluses from holding the broom, and Hermione held back tighter. She went to take another right but Bellatrix stopped her, tugging her the opposite direction. “This way. We have plans.” 

“Do we?” 

“Yes. Now stop asking questions. You’re going to ruin it.” 

Hermione sincerely doubted asking one question was ‘going to ruin it’ but she smiled and obeyed, allowing herself to be pulled through the castle until they reached the third floor. Bellatrix guided them into another empty room, this one having been abandoned for some time if the sheet covered furniture was anything to go by, but the dark witch remained steadfast as she walked to behind some, where Hermione could see the flicker of a candle against the wall. 

“Bella, what are we-” she began to question the other girl until she cut herself off with a gasp at what she saw. 

Narcissa and Andromeda couldn’t have helped set this up. There was no way, they’d been with her too long. Planning it, maybe, but neither had given any sort of inclination that Bellatrix was doing something, so she didn’t think that was the case either. 

No, this had to be all Bella. 

The corner of the room, hidden by some old furniture, was now converted into a small space for the two of them. The dusty floor was covered by a green and silver blanket, an extra blanket folded and off to the side, an uncountable amount of pillows circling it all, a few candles spelled to float high above them, and a small basket in the center. 

She turned to Bella, wide eyed and opened mouthed, and found the girl standing there, staring down at the floor, cheeks a bit reddened. 

Bellatrix was nervous. And embarrassed. She did this... romantic gesture for Hermione, and was nervous about it. 

She didn’t need to think twice before she rushed forward and forced Bellatrix to kiss her, smiling so hard their teeth banged together and Bellatrix pulled away from the impact. 

“What is this for?” Hermione asked after a moment, unable to get the smile from her face or to slow her racing heart. “Why’d you do this.” 

Bellatrix rolled her eyes, and dragged Hermione into the corner and on the ground. She must have spelled the blanket, because instead of feeling the hard floor like Hermione expected, she felt only the fluffiness of the blanket. “Do we have to do this... gushy emotional part. Can’t you just eat the snacks and praise me?” 

As Hermione opened up the tiny basket and saw the various foods, she was suddenly reminded of a very similar situation with Daniel, a day that felt like eons ago. Daniel had packed a picnic and sat under the sun out on the grounds. He had been so unsure of it, so anxious to impress Hermione that day. And she had spent most of it thinking of Bella, and how it had felt to kiss her for the first time. Not long after that, the girl in question had appeared with Rodolphus, and promptly tried to ruin their outing. Of course, Hermione could now recognize it came from a place of jealousy (a though that made her smile. _She_ was the cause of _Bellatrix Black_ being jealous). 

“Why’re you smiling like that, Granger?” 

“Do you remember that day I went out with Daniel, and you and Rodolphus interrupted it?”

A stormy look immediately passed over Bellatrix’s face as she scowled down at the basket. “Why’re you thinking about that poor excuse for a Quidditch player? Honestly, I have no idea why you ever gave him the time of day and-”

Hermione put her hand overtop of Bellatrix’s tense one, rubbing her thumb over the knuckle. “Relax, Bella. I was thinking about how much I thought about you when I was out with him. That was right after we, um, kissed in the lake.”

“Ah, when you assaulted me. I vividly remember that.” 

“Don’t say that!” Hermione laughed as she lightly whacked Bellatrix’s arm, watching the girl pull out small plates of goodies, all wrapped to stop from falling out, and Bellatrix dutifully pulled away the plastic and passed a small bowl of sliced strawberries to Hermione. “How did you manage to do all of this? You outright refused to help cook at headquarters.” 

Bellatrix scoffed at the idea that Hermione would entertain Bellatrix cooking. “I had Narcissa ask the house elves to do this. They despise me, and love her, for whatever unknown reason. They agreed, and did this. Honestly, I haven’t the slightest clue what Cissy told them to put in here. She gave me the basket right before she went to find you, and then I came here. This food better be good, otherwise her and the elves are in for it.” 

“Make sure you thank her and the elves,” Hermione smiled as she kissed Bellatrix’s cheek. “This is... beyond anything I would have ever expected from you,” she added honestly, not wanting to offend Bellatrix with the truth, but needing to say it anyway. “I love it. Thank you. But really, why did you do this?” 

“Should I not praise a pretty girl? Especially when that same pretty girl is the one who saved my sisters and I from a.... less than pleasant ordeal.” 

Ah, that’s what this is about. 

Hermione slipped her hand into Bellatrix’s, pulling it up to place a light kiss on it. “You don’t need to do this because of that, Bella. I did it because I... I was going out of my mind without knowing what was happening with the three of you. I- you’re- all of you are so very important to me, and I would do anything to keep you safe.” The vivid memory of the panic she felt at believing she killed Cygnus hit her quickly and brutally, and she shoved that to the back of her mind. She wasn’t a killer, but she very well could have been, all for the three Black sisters. She added, just to lighten the suddenly heavy mood, “I will accept you doing this because you think I’m pretty though.” 

“Watch it, Granger, your ego is beginning to rival my own.”

Hermione popped a strawberry into her mouth and said, “Merlin knows we don’t need two of you.” 

She gasped when a tiny, still sightly wet, and very cold blueberry smacked into her cheek. 

“Bellatrix!” 

“You deserved that,” Bellatrix said with a crooked grin, popping the other blueberry from her hand into her mouth. “Now leave me alone so I can enjoy this lavish feast.” 

“Why do I put up with you?”

“Would you like me to list all of my best qualities? I can alphabetize them if you’d like.” 

“Please, stop talking to me.” 

“Oh, if you didn’t want to talk, you just needed to say so...” Bellatrix trailed off as she leaned closer, and Hermione let herself smile as Bellatrix pressed their mouths together. Both of them were slightly sticky from the fruit, the taste nearly overpoweringly sweet, but neither of them cared. 

It didn’t take long until Bellatrix’s tongue was swiping at Hermione’s bottom lip, silently asking for access, and she didn’t hesitate to grant it, nearly moaning at the feel of the girl’s tongue now in her mouth. They’d kissed at headquarters, but this was the first time they had been able to since returning to school, and Hermione would be lying if she said she didn’t miss it. Didn’t crave it at every waking moment. Especially when Bellatrix moved suddenly, shifting until one leg was thrown over Hermione’s lap, and she was straddling her. 

Oh. Oh. Oh Merlin- 

A moan did finally escape when Bellatrix rolled her hips into Hermione’s, pale hands tangling into her hair and pulling harder at her head. Hermione’s hands were gripped tightly to Bellatrix’s waist, holding the girl in place and forcing her to keep up that grinding motion. 

Waves of arousal swept over Hermione as her own hips moved back in response, desperate for a contact she hadn’t experienced before. She was about ready to knock Bellatrix to the ground and take control herself, but it seemed that, as always, they were on the same page, for Hermione felt Bellatrix gently pushing at her chest, signaling she wanted her to lay on her back, which Hermione was quick to do. 

Bellatrix moved to follow, stretching out so she was above Hermione, their hips pressed tightly against one another as their hands wandered. Bellatrix’s mouth moved sloppily from Hermione’s to her cheek, then her jaw, until finally settling on her neck, desperately biting marks into the increasingly sweaty skin. She stuttered when she felt Hermione’s hand grip her own and guide it to her thigh. 

It was perhaps the most bold Hermione had been, but she was desperate for attention, desperate for all Bellatrix had to offer, and now was not the time to second guess anything, not when this all felt so perfectly natural. 

“Are you sure?” Bellatrix mumbled into Hermione’s neck, voice huskier than ever before. “We can... stop,” she added, the sentence sounding pained as she trailed her hands up Hermione’s bare thigh. Hermione made a mental note to thank the school founders for insisting girls wear skirts each day. She had never stopped to consider it, but it definitely made... certain things easier. 

“Don’t you dare stop,” Hermione ordered, her entire body shaking when Bellatrix bit the sensitive skin above her collarbone. She had never felt this... this aroused a day in her life before now, but the closer Bellatrix’s hands got to between her legs, the closer they got to- 

Hermione expected herself to be nervous. To be scared and anxious and second guessing her every move. But she didn’t feel any of that. Bellatrix had put so much effort into this surprise, and she knew the girl didn’t do it out of hopes of having sex. She did it because she liked Hermione, liked her a lot, and wanted to show her that and that she was thankful for all Hermione had done. None of it came from wanting a sexual repayment, and as Bellatrix’s hands moved from her thigh (and Hermione most definitely did not whimper at the loss of contact) to begin unbuttoning her blouse, she couldn’t help but think how _right_ this felt. 

“Fuck,” Bellatrix groaned out once Hermione’s shirt was completely undone, her flat stomach and white bra now on full display. “Fuck,” she just repeated, pulling back to get a better view, even as her hands moved, seemingly automatically, to the clasp on Hermione’s back. “Can I?” 

“Yes,” Hermione replied immediately, arching upwards to give Bellatrix better access, which the girl did not waste. A second later, the garment was loosened around her chest, and both of them raced to rip it off. 

Bellatrix’s hands were on Hermione’s chest immediately, thumbs brushing against her straining nipples once, twice, until she was leaning down, cool fingers being replaced by a warm mouth that had Hermione’s eyes squeezing shut and her back arching to get closer to Bellatrix as one of her hands moved back to Hermione’s thigh. 

Hermione’s heart was racing, both from the fact she had never been more aroused in her life, but also due to her about to have sex for the first time. With Bellatrix. Her and Bellatrix were going to sleep together, right here on the ground, in a little corner the other girl had so sweetly set up for them and- 

“ _Bella_ ,” Hermione gasped when quick fingers rubbed against her clothed center, startling her out of her thoughts as she rolled her hips into the touch. “Bella, please-” 

She didn’t need to ask again. Bellatrix rubbed up her center once, stopping at the apex and pressing down, circling it just how Hermione needed, and Hermione’s nails dug into Bellatrix’s shoulders at the indescribable sensation that was overtaking her body right in that moment. 

“You’re so... _wet_ ,” Bellatrix mumbled against her chest, undeniable awe in her voice as she moved her hand away, dragging an embarrassing whine from Hermione that was cut off when she realized the dark witch was just trying to get her skirt and underwear off. 

Hermione assisted by lifting her hips, watching with wide eyes as Bellatrix pulled both down, and then got right back to business by placing her fingers back on Hermione, now without any cloth barrier. Hermione had only a second to feel pointlessly embarrassed before a finger was slowly, gently, pushing its way inside of her. 

Instinctually she tensed, her body unused to the intrusion, but Bellatrix began whispering lowly into her ear, urging her to relax and promising she’d enjoy every second, and it didn’t take long for Bellatrix to enter her to the knuckle. She stilled for a minute, and Hermione wiggled a bit to get accommodated. When she felt ready, she nodded to continue, and Bellatrix started up a slow, barely there back and forth movement that had Hermione’s breathing stopping and starting at irregular intervals. 

“Bella,” she repeated, eyes tightly closed and bottom lip bit painfully between her teeth. She didn’t want to be too loud, but the urge to moan, to scream out her pleasure, was becoming too much. 

Bellatrix seemed to notice, for she kissed Hermione soundly, forcing her to release her lip, and gasped into her mouth, “Do _not_ fucking be quiet, Hermione.” 

As she said it, she picked up her fingers pace, moving quicker and with more force. Suddenly, Hermione felt another finger at her entrance, and just spread her legs wider, an uncontrollable urge to take all of what Bellatrix had to offer taking over her. She didn’t need nearly as long to adjust to this one, and it was easy to for Bellatrix to get both in deep, curling and scissoring the digits in a way that had Hermione seeing stars. 

It was perfect- it was nearly perfect, she just needed- 

“I want to touch you,” Hermione gasped, her hips moving seemingly on their own accord as Bellatrix moved her fingers in and out of her. She couldn’t focus on anything other than how expertly Bella did this, how she knew all the right ways to make Hermione scream. “Please,” she added when Bellatrix was too caught up to respond. “Please, let me touch you.” 

She needed to wait only for Bellatrix’s jerkily made head nod before she scrambled for the zipper at the base of the girl’s neck, shakily pulling it down until it was loose enough to slip down her arms. Hermione almost screamed in despair when Bellatrix had to remove her hand to get out the dress, but she was back a second later, slamming into Hermione was no warning and picking up speed once more. 

Now with the dress completely off, Hermione noticed Bellatrix had chosen not to wear a bra at all tonight, and she slid her hands up until they cupped the girl’s breasts, squeezing them gently once experimentally. Bellatrix moaned, so Hermione did it again, and- yep. She could touch the girl’s breasts all night, if she let her. 

“Hermione,” Bellatrix chastised, voice strained and gravelly. “ _Fuck me._ ” 

Hermione didn’t think she’d ever heard a hotter command, and she was quick to obey. Silently, she hoped Bellatrix didn’t notice the way her hands shook when she removed them from her chest and slid down her stomach, stopping for only the briefest of seconds at the edge of Bellatrix’s underwear before pulling them down as well, and dipping her fingers down, past soft curls and into soaking wet heat. 

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Hermione breathed out as she slid one finger into Bellatrix, feeling the way the girl clenched around her. Merlin, it was... it was... this was the best thing that’s ever happened to her. And it only continued to get better and better as she slowly moved her finger in and out, letting Bellatrix get used to the sudden intrusion, and feeling how Bellatrix moved her hips in response, pushing down onto Hermione’s hand as she continued with her own ministrations. 

“Fuck, Hermione, fuck,” Bellatrix moved, her head dropping onto Hermione’s shoulder and her eyes squeezed tight. Both of their hips were moving quickly, and Hermione slowly eased in a second finger, stilling for all of one heartbeat before she pushed in deep to her knuckle, and Bellatrix let out her loudest moan yet, the noise only partially muffled by Hermione’s skin. 

Hermione was close. She could feel it building low in her stomach, and could feel herself clenching tighter around Bellatrix’s fingers, the girl now thrusting inside of her at an unrelenting pace as they both dragged moan after moan out of one another. 

It only took Bellatrix curling her fingers and pressing her thumb down on that spot for Hermione’s entire body to tense up, her one hand digging crescent shapes into Bellatrix’s back while her other froze inside of her, as she screamed out Bellatrix’s name. 

“Keep fucking me,” Bellatrix ordered once Hermione was able to open her eyes again, the dark witch’s hips moving desperately onto Hermione’s fingers to keep the pleasure going. 

Slightly delirious, Hermione continued, her movements a bit slower and out of sync than previously, but her body was being a bit too much like jello right in that moment to have any more skill. Not that it seemed to matter, as she could feel how Bellatrix began clenching tighter, making it nearly impossible to move her fingers, she pushed upwards and pressed her mouth against Bellatrix’s throat, sinking her teeth in and sucking the skin in roughly. 

That did it. Bellatrix nearly tumbled on top of Hermione as her orgasm crashed over her, her legs shaking and her mouth opened in a silent scream, eyebrows pulled down as her entire body twitched. 

Okay, Hermione took it back. That was the best thing that’s ever happened to her. Her heart had to be beating a mile a minute, her body was coated in a sheen of sweat, and her fingers were sticky in a way she’d never experienced. And goddamn did she love every blissful second of it. 

When they had finished, when Hermione finally felt as if her brain and her body were once again properly together, and she no longer felt as if she was floating away, she shifted Bellatrix to lay beside her and pulled the extra blanket over their naked bodies. She wouldn’t say it out loud, but she was immensely disappointed at being unable to see Bellatrix’s tantalizing body, but she’d begin to feel like a weirdo if she kept staring any longer. 

Bellatrix pulled her into her side, hands tangling into Hermione’s now properly messed up hair. “I’ll admit, this wasn’t the outcome I had planned when I did this. You’ll hear no complaints from me though. Merlin, woman, you sure know how to get me to stop breathing.” 

Hermione pressed a soft kiss to the underside of Bellatrix’s jaw, nestling in closer to her warmth. She never wanted to leave this moment. The two of them, secure and naked in one another’s arms... that was all she needed. “I’ll admit,” she started slowly, mimicking the other girl’s words, “I wouldn’t have ever thought I’d do... well, this on school grounds. I always pictured my first time being... I don’t even know. I didn’t think I would have enjoyed it nearly as much as I did.” 

It was the wrong thing to say. Hermione realized that the moment the words escaped her lips, but there was nothing she could do to take it back, not as she watched one side of Bellatrix’s mouth curl up into that mocking grin and the tip of her tongue poke out. “Yes, yes, continue to sing my praise.”

“Don’t ruin this.” Hermione laughed, arching herself further into Bellatrix when she felt soft fingers tickle their way up her spine. 

Bellatrix cleared her throat, and Hermione looked back up at her, taking in her still flushed cheeks, wet mouth, and wild hair, and couldn’t help but smile. Yes, this was probably the complete opposite of how she envisioned her first time, but she wouldn’t change a single thing, not when Bellatrix looked back down at her and kissed her nose. 

The Bellatrix Black just kissed Hermione’s nose. 

She seemed to realize what she had done a moment later, as she scowled down at Hermione and just said, “You tell no one about that.” 

“And here I was, about to leave and go tell Andromeda and Narcissa all about tonight.” She just laughed some more when Bellatrix nipped the tip of her ear, though that soft laugh was quick to shift into a low moan when that mouth traveled lower, pausing on her ear lobe and then leaving hot, wet kisses down her neck until she was able to claim her mouth. 

As she felt Bellatrix’s hand trail down past her hip, she knew she was absolutely correct that she wouldn’t change a thing, and was most definitely looking forward to spending the rest of the night doing nothing but worshipping Bellatrix’s body. 


	20. XX

Ravenclaw was in the lead by forty points, and thirty minutes into the game the Snitch was yet to be spotted. Everyone’s emotions were raised and the ref, this time it was McGonagall, had had to break up two arguments on the pitch before the game even began.

Bellatrix had started both of them. One with the Ravenclaw Seeker, and the other with their captain. It took McGonagall threatening to have Bellatrix removed from the match for her to not start a third argument, but it did very little and ease any frustrations. Both teams had adequate motivation to win the match. Whoever came out first would almost definitely secure the lead for the house cup. Theoretically they were close enough in points for some students to push the tides one way or another, but they all knew how unlikely that was to be, and so Quidditch was their last resort.

Slytherin was the current first place holder, a fact that Hermione was quiet proud of. She had decided, many months ago, that if she were to be here, she would be in full support of her new house. Even if that meant watching Gryffindor come in third place and not feeling an ounce of guilt over celebrating that fact with her other housemates. And she wouldn't feel guilty when Slytherin won the cup and she was the cheering louder than anyone else. Because they would be winning the cup. That was a definite.

Of course, the weather would decide now was the perfect time to unleash an unforgivable amount of rain that had them all in goggles that fogged up too much, their visibility nonexistent, and the roar of the thunder and rain covering up any attempts at quick conversations between teammates. It hadn’t made any of their weakly leashed tempers any better. Hermione had almost whacked two Slytherin players, and had had to hastily apologize to Victoria and Ryan and hope they forgive her clumsiness.

She dropped low on the field, frantically searching for the opposing team as her one hand struggled to maintain any sort of grip on her soaked broom, the other doing the same with her club. It was damn near impossible to see anyone else, but if she squinted, she could make out the blue and bronze of the Ravenclaw players. Without stopping to check where the Quaffles or bludgers were, she took off racing towards them, hoping that she’d be able to beat back a few of the balls eventually since she’s been doing a pretty poor job of it thus far.

With what was a complete stroke of luck, Hermione could just make out one of Ravenclaw’s chaser holding the Quaffle and taking off towards Slytherin’s goalpost. She dropped to cut them off just as they arced their arm to toss it, and they couldn’t react quick enough before she was knocking the ball away and towards the opposite direction.

_Take that, Ravenclaw!_

Maybe the tides were finally turning to be on their side, for none other than Bellatrix dropped from above to catch the rapidly sinking ball, letting her broom be completely vertical as she raced to grab it before someone else did, and Hermione would admit to no one that she held her breath the entire time until Bellatrix quickly pulled upwards on the front, moments before she would have crashed to the ground, Quaffle secured in hand and speeding towards the Ravenclaw goal.

Hermione lost her then in between the rain and other players, but she could just make out the announcer yelling, “Ten points to Slytherin!”

Thirty point difference now.

They could do it.

They were going to do it.

It was a mantra Hermione repeated to herself, the silent words growing in strength when she saw Tony finally, finally flying quickly above them chasing after that annoying quick little golden ball. Unfortunately, the Ravenclaw seeker was hot on his tails, but Tony was quicker than them all, and maintain his lead.

“Potter!” Hermione could barely hear Victoria’s scream over the rain. “Head in the game, girl!” The blonde said, her hair plastered to her face and looking probably as rough as Hermione figured she herself looked. “Go knock some Ravenclaw bastards to the ground!” 

Hermione could do that. She could definitely do that.

Ten minutes later and the snitch still hadn’t been caught, though the the score was even now. Bellatrix and Ryan had scored three more goals in rapid succession, and a good portion of the crowd was screaming over the rain in support of them. Hermione had indeed knocked away two chasers who hoped to score for Ravenclaw, and she refused to let herself feel bad when she saw blood on one of their faces when she was close enough.

“Ten points to Slytherin!” 

_Yes!_

The rain was coming down even harder now, and more than once Hermione had had to adjust before she lost her grip on the broom and club. All of the other players were doing the same, all of them flying uncharacteristically lower to the ground in the very real chance they did slip and fall. Professors were on high alert, wands at the ready to catch any players before they crashed into the ground, and still the game went on.

It was hard to catch her breath, harder even to see. How the hell Tony managed to chase the snitch was beyond her but-

There it was.

She could just barely see the little ball in the not too far distance, more of a wet golden reflection than anything else. It was more telling by Tony and the Ravenclaw seeker flying directly at her, scrambling to reach out and grab it. They were heading right at Hermione, the snitch on a straight path to her. She couldn’t grab it. Couldn’t touch it.

But she could touch the opposing Seeker. 

He was almost as fast as Tony, both boys moving in a near blur head on towards her, and she moved to the side, only slightly, keeping both of them in her line of sight. Tony just needed to grab the snitch, just needed to maintain the lead on the boy behind him, and he’d be able to grab the snitch.

When they flew by her, Tony so close pieces of her rain slicked hair whooshed in the wind, she jerked her club out as soon as she could see the bristles of Tony’s broom. She missed him entirely, thankfully, and clapped the tip of the Ravenclaw Seeker’s broom. He hadn’t been expecting it, hadn’t thought she was close enough to reach him, and usually the Seekers were off limits. Not against the rules per se, but a low enough blow that the players typically didn’t bother them aside from the other Seeker. 

Hermione was in the mood to play dirty, desperate enough to ensure Slytherin’s win, that she grinned widely as she watched the boy’s broom jerk upwards. He lost his grip on it and tumbled right off the back, plunging down quickly to the ground as two professors rushed to catch him. 

A second later, she heard the announcer scream, “Slytherins has caught the Snitch! Slytherin wins the game!” 

Everything happened very quickly after that, enough so that Hermione felt as if she were experiencing the chaos through a third party. All of the players were dropping to the ground, letting their brooms drop carelessly as they all swarmed Hermione and Tony, squeezing them tightly together as the crowd screamed their congratulations. 

At her back, arms wrapped tight against her waist, Hermione could feel Bellatrix’s smaller body pressed against her, and smiled as the rest of the team kept screaming. 

That house cup was _theirs_. 

All of the students (well, those that supported Slytherin, at least) rushed back to the school to begin the celebrations, all of the players taking a small detour to put away their brooms and Quidditch supplies before racing to catch up. 

For the entire trip back to the school, Bellatrix’s hands didn’t once leave Hermione’s, nor did she leave her side once the party started. 

It went well into the night, with the seventh and a few lucky sixth years staying up later than the others and passing around a few bottles of firewhiskey. It was so much like Hermione’s very first game, except this time when Bellatrix sat beside her, her arm was loosely thrown around her shoulders, fingers twisted slightly in Hermione’s hair.

If any of the other students noticed or cared, they kept their comments to themselves as they enjoyed a night of relaxed celebrations, the whiskey loosening everyone up. They had all long since changed from their sodden and muddy uniforms, all now in regular outfits. Bellatrix wore a short black dress that showed way too much of her thighs for Hermione to properly function at all, and Hermione had once again stolen an outfit from Andromeda, though she kept it simple with tights and a sweater.

She had felt Bellatrix’s eyes on her the entire time they were changing clothes, unable to act on anything with so many other girls around them at the time, and she hadn’t missed the way Bellatrix watched her most of the night afterwards as well. Or how the girl’s movements on her neck and shoulder were slower, heavier, and much, much more teasing as they traced up and down.

“To Hermione and Tony!” Steve held up his half full cup of whiskey to the room, only a few others that weren’t a part of the team left. “A hell of a move out there!” The group followed his toast, an only partially quiet cheer resounding throughout as they all drank. “Ravenclaw has no chance of winning the house cup, thanks to all of you. I must say, it’s been an honor to be on a team with you for so long.” 

Similar praises were passed around from the rest of the team, Bellatrix choosing to go with a simple, “I tolerated all of you, I suppose,” whereas Hermione was a bit more thankful in her statements.

“I know I haven’t known you all for very long,” she started off, her words slower and lower than normal, thanks to the alcohol in her system. “But I have come to cherish you all. And I know I sucked so much in the beginning, so thank you for being patient with me. And I hope we can continue our friendship post graduation.” 

“Can’t get rid of us that easily,” Sebastian, more than a little drunk, said with an uncharacteristically easy grin, the collar of his light shirt a bit wet from the alcohol he had spilled earlier. “Besides, I suppose we shall all be seeing a lot of one another when we go to support Steve playing for the French?”

That had everyone spinning to face their captain, who looked as if he wanted to be anywhere else. Him and Victoria mimicked Hermione and Bellatrix’s positions, with Steve’s arm thrown around the back of the blonde’s chair. He waved off their loud gasps of surprise with a gentle laugh. “That’s right. You’re looking at the newest French National player. Signed a few days ago. I’m heading to France the weekend after graduation.”

A new round of celebrations commenced after that, everyone getting another round of drinks, the air of excitement and revelry growing stronger with each passing hour. By the time they all called it a night, the sun was just beginning to light up the darkened lake.

Hermione stood first, making sure she wasn’t about to tumble over, before she somewhat sluggishly pulled Bellatrix to her feet, both girls using one another to support themselves as they made the trek to the seventh year girls’ dorm. The hall had never felt longer than when Hermione was trying not to collapse, and it wasn’t helping that she swore the floor was wiggling with each step. It was probably the alcohol, but this was Hogwarts, and Hermione wouldn’t put it past anything for that to happen.

They did finally enter the darkened room, and Hermione wasn’t sure which one of them started walking towards Hermione’s bed first, the one closer to the door, except they both dropped down onto it, Bellatrix’s eyes already beginning to close as Hermione fumbled to pull the girl’s heels off before she took her own and dropped into the bed beside her.

“Your bed is so much comfier,” the dark witch slurred into Hermione’s neck, warm puffs of air tickling the sensitive skin there. Hermione had the bright sense to magic the curtains closed to give them a bit of privacy and darkness. “I’m never leaving.” 

“I don’t want you to,” Hermione mumbled, Bellatrix’s thick mane of hair stifling the words somewhat. She slipped an arm around the other girl, their legs tangling together, and not even a minute had passed before both girls were sound asleep, fully content and comfortable in each other’s arms.

* * *

Hermione had just finished her last examination that she would ever take at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and a hollow feeling had settled in the pit of her stomach. In only two days she would leave by way of boat, the same as how she had first arrived all those years ago, and she would never walk these halls again. Well, technically. Kind of. Hermione Granger would be here for her first year eventually, but not her her. Not this Hermione. The girl who will face a troll, a werewolf, hordes of Death Eaters. She would walk these halls. But not the girl who kissed Bellatrix, who slept with Bellatrix in an empty classroom. Who helped Andromeda with classes and walked the grounds with Narcissa. That Hermione was a different Hermione all together, and right now she felt aimless, useless in a way she never had been before. 

She’d always had a purpose, always a goal in mind. It didn’t feel much like she had either right now, as she paused to lean against the stonewall outside the class room and close her eyes. 

“If you are thinking of all the missed opportunities of us together in this school, I’ve already thought of them. In fact, I compiled a list of places I think will be best. Shall we start now?” 

Hermione couldn’t fight the same overtaking her face and relaxing her stressed mind even if she tried, not as she opened her eyes and found Bellatrix standing only a little bit away, tie loose around her neck and hair pulled into a messy bun. She must have finished her final exam sooner than Hermione, and come to greet her. The thought had her pushing off of the wall to be closer to the witch. 

“Is sex the only thing on your mind now?” 

“Can I be blamed for saying yes? I am fantastic at it. You stand to be improved, but don’t worry. I’m patient.” 

“Patient is the complete opposite of you, Bellatrix Black.” A goofy smile was on Hermione’s face as she bumped her shoulder against Bellatrix’s, both of them beginning to follow the flow of people moving through the halls. “What are you doing here?” 

They hadn’t had much time together over the last week since Quidditch ended. Aside from studying, Hermione did little more than eat and sleep as everyone prepared for finals. Sure, they were together, as in studying beside one another along with Narcissa and Andromeda, and occasionally Ted and even Daniel, but they had very little time alone. 

And she didn’t even mean it in the sense of having sex, which she did find herself wanting a lot. She just meant... she wanted Bellatrix’s attention on _her_. Wanted Bellatrix to look at her, touch her, smile at her, talk to her. Do anything so long as it involved her. It was an unexpected and totally prosperous feeling, one that made Hermione feel like she was ten years old and having her first crush all over again, but it was the truth. 

It was only made worse when they woke up together after the Quidditch championships. It was well into the afternoon by the time they managed to become coherent, heads throbbing from the alcohol and stomachs rolling. Bellatrix looked more hair than body in that moment, as she refused to open her eyes and just pressed closer to Hermione, every part of their bodies touching. At some point in the night her dress had ridden up to her waist, revealing more pale thighs and black underwear. 

Hermione’s hands had only just began to trail upwards when none other than Andromeda was ripping the curtain open and yelling at them to wake up. Right in that moment, Hermione wouldn't have stopped Bellatrix from killing Andy, not as the sisters got into a screaming match that did nothing for Hermione’s headache, and she had simply rolled out of bed and left them to it. 

“We have plans,” Bellatrix said, pulling Hermione from her memories. “Exams are over. We have places to be.”

“Where?” 

“Do you not understand the concept of a surprise? Stop asking questions and hurry up. You’re very slow.” Bellatrix sounded annoyed, but Hermione could see the corner of her mouth quirked upward, and she laced her hand through Bellatrix’s, brushing her thumb over the taunt knuckle skin. 

All questions about where the hell they were racing off to were completely ignored as Bellatrix led her down winding halls until they were out of the castle entirely and onto the grounds, none of the other students paying them any mind as Bellatrix purposefully marched. It took Hermione only a few minutes to realize they were heading in the direction of Hogsmeade, and when she tried to pull Bellatrix to a stop, the girl pointedly ignored her and kept walking. 

After some time, the popular village came into sight, and Bellatrix stop and spun around to face Hermione, still having refused to answer any of her questions. 

The witch’s grin was the very same one that she would have before instigating a fight with Hermione, except this time the hand that had once thrown hexes and punches at her now held her own softly, curling around her fingers and pulling her in close. “Hold on tight.” 

There was no warning before Hermione felt the sickening pull of apparition in the lower pit of her stomach as the world twisted and shifted upon herself. She didn’t even have time to yell at Bellatrix before the sensation was over and firm ground was beneath her feet. “Bella!” She chastised after she sucked in much needed air, looking up to find the annoying girl with that stupid smile she liked so much still place. “What did you- why are we- we shouldn’t have left Hogwarts!” 

The dark witch seemed entirely unperturbed by breaking school rules, of which Hermione was not surprised in the slightest, if only a bit annoyed. “Forgive me, Granger. I hadn’t realized you were suddenly gung-ho for obeying every rule our mighty school has. Shall I take us back now, or will you be quiet long enough for me to show you why I’ve brought you here?” 

Here was, oddly enough, a busy street in Wizarding London, recognizable by the familiar signs all around them. Bellatrix had apparated them into the end of an alley, all the people brushing by the opening not paying them a single moment as they rushed about their various lives. Hermione knew the Ministry of Magic wasn’t too far away, though she couldn’t imagine Bellatrix was taking her there for all places. No, whatever they were in London for was something else entirely, even if she hadn't the faintest clue as to what that is. 

“See that building there?” Bellatrix pointed across the street to a simple, five story brown stone building, the multiple rows of balconies indicating it was most definitely an apartment complex. “Four windows up from the bottom, two from the left.” 

Hermione followed the instructions obediently, and settled on the window Bellatrix wanted her to see. “I see the window, yes.”

“That’s our window.”

“What?” 

“That is our window,” Bellatrix said, slower this time, as if Hermione’s question was based on not hearing the previous statement instead of the insanity of the statement itself. “Apartment 4B. Or it will be. I get the keys tomorrow.” 

“Bella, I don’t... what is going on?” 

Bellatrix rolled her eyes, apparently bored of whatever game she was trying to play with Hermione, or mad that Hermione didn’t understand the unspoken rules. But how could she, when her heart felt like it was in her throat and her palms were suddenly very, very sweaty? 

“Come on,” Bellatrix replied instead of explaining anything, tugging on Hermione’s wrist as they quickly crossed the road and entered the double doors of the apartments. Inside was a pale cream, dark wooden stairs leading up, a small chandelier hanging up with a multitude of flickering candles. “There is no lift,” she scowled as she started the climb to the fourth floor, Hermione silent the entire time. 

She was having a hard time getting one foot in front of the other to get to the correct floor. One couldn’t expect her to also be able to hold a conversation right now on top of trying to breathe and walk without having a panic attack. What the hell was Bellatrix thinking right now? 

Eventually they came to a stop outside a darkly painted door emblazoned with ‘4B’ in the center, directly below a peephole. Bellatrix double checked the empty hallway once more before she whispered, “Alohomora,” and the door jerked opened a moment after. 

“Bellatrix!” Hermione chastised, eyes wide as Bellatrix merely sauntered into the apartment. “What if someone lived here!”   
  
“Are you deaf, Granger?” Bellatrix said, all humor lacing her words as she watched Hermione slowly follow. “It’s empty. Stop looking at me like that and come in.”

Left with very little other choice, Hermione walked into the apartment. It was nothing spectacular, actually nothing at all. There was no furniture, just an open floor from the living room to kitchen. The walls were white and bare, the floor well worn. A regular, normal apartment. The windows overlooked the busy street, and as neither of them were talking, it wasn’t hard to hear the commotion below. 

“Can you please tell me what’s going on, Bella?” 

Hermione shouldn’t have been surprised Bellatrix failed to answer right away. It seemed she was in the mood to see how long it took for Hermione to get aggravated. The shorter girl merely walked closer to the kitchen, not stopping until she reached one of the counters and leant against it. Slowly, she pulled a folded up sheet of parchment from her robe pocket. 

“Read it,” Bellatrix demanded, voice suddenly empty in a way Hermione had not heard for some time now. It automatically had her heart hurting, and she wanted nothing more than to reach out and grab the girl and pull her close, but she refrained and opened the folded letter. The crease was soft enough to suggest Bellatrix had probably opened and closed it many, many times. 

There was no greeting to start the letter off. 

_Effective immediately, we no longer recognize you as our daughter or heir to the Black fortune. You are denied your birthright of our name and wealth. You do not have access to the Black volt at Gringott’s. You do not have access to Black Manor. To us and the rest of the Black family, you are as good as dead. To forsake your duties is to forsake your ties to us._

_The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black._

_Toujours Pur._

The letter ended after that, and Hermione read it two more times before she looked back up to Bellatrix, not bothering to wipe the tears that had sprung to her eyes as she read. Bellatrix, for her part, did not let any sort of emotion show on her pale face as she stared unflinchingly back at Hermione. 

“This is because... because of me?” Hermione’s voice cracked on the last word, her hands shaking and her breathing shallow as a rush of self loathing overtook her. 

“Partly,” Bellatrix admitted, not bothering to mince the words. “Had you not come along, I suppose I would have remained the Black heir. Although,” she added quickly upon seeing the new wave of tears sliding down Hermione’s face, “I do not believe my life would be a lovely one, should I have continued down the path I was destined to be on, hm? A Deatheater, yes? So, there was always going to be a price I had to pay. Either my sisters and their love, or my parents. I do not think its such a bad thing to be removed from the Black family.” She scowled and added, “The lack of money is a bitch. I have learned it isn’t fun to be poor.”

That dragged a laugh from Hermione, though the tears remained, even as Bellatrix took a step closer and gently brushed them away. 

“You shouldn’t cry, Hermione,” the shorter girl said softly, before the corner of her mouth jerked into a grin. “You look terribly dreadful doing so.” 

“Stop it, you,” Hermione couldn’t help but laugh once more, wiping her cheeks properly with the sleeve of her shirt to dry them off. “I am... I don’t even know what I am,” she confessed. “Part of me feels horrendous about this, you must believe that. But, the other part, the part that has not only seen the woman they would make you grow to be, but has also first handedly seen how they do not deserve you... that part does not feel bad. And that’s making me feel worse.” 

“Then let me make you feel better.” Bellatrix’s voice dropped low and sultry, the sort of tone that shot a pulse of pleasure right between Hermione’s legs, made even more intense by the way Bellatrix’s hands moved to her hips, squeezing tightly. “I should be thanking you for this,” the dark witch said in between kisses to Hermione’s neck. “I won’t, of course, but I should be.” 

That was enough for Hermione to roll her eyes and lightly shove Bellatrix away, ignoring the displeased pout on the other girl’s gorgeous face. “Not here,” she laughed, running a hand through her hair and trying to calm her racing breaths. All it took was a few kisses from Bellatrix and she was ready to let her underwear drop. “You never told me what this apartment has to do with any of this.”

“Oh, that.” Bellatrix shrugged and dug another folded up piece of parchment from her pocket. “The Irish National Quidditch team signed me as a Chaser last week. Seeing as I am suddenly without a manor, part of the conditions of my contract with them are they needed to find me somewhere to live.” She motioned to the small area. “This is what they gave me. Enough room for Andy and Cissy, myself, and you.” 

There was... so much in that sentence to process, and all Hermione could do was dumbly blink at Bellatrix as she took the offered parchment and quickly read the new letter. This time the letter was crisp, as if she had read it only once, instead of the dozens she must have read her father’s. Longer too, filled with much more details, such as the apartment leasing, Quidditch supplies provided by the team, her length of contract, and of course, her salary. Which was lower than Hermione would have guessed a professional Quidditch player to make, but by no means unlivable. 

“Why didn’t you... how long have you known?” Hermione looked up with wide eyes, surges of pride coursing through her as she looked to Bellatrix and found the girl to be looking anywhere but her, as if in embarrassment. “Bella, this is... this is _wonderful_.” 

“A few games ago, a representative from the Irish and Germany came to watch us play and approached me afterwards about offers. England was at the next game. I didn’t say anything because,” she didn’t finish, just shrugged with a wave of her hand. “I turned England down immediately. I will not let my name be ruined by a team that doesn’t know a Quaffle from their own asses. Germany was... tempting, I admit, but...” another shrug. 

“Don’t do that, Bella. Tell me the truth, please, I want to hear it all.”

Bellatrix sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth and looked as if she wanted to do anything but. Hermione wouldn’t have pushed, even if she was desperate to know the truth, before Bellatrix sighed and backed away, as if putting space between them would make it easier to speak honestly. “Ireland was the only team to offer me an apartment in London. When I got the letter from my parents, I panicked. I was expecting it, truthfully, but it still wasn’t... I didn’t know what I was going to do. With... Andy and Cissy. They couldn’t go back, but I didn’t have anywhere to take them. When Germany and Ireland offered me a position, I saw my opportunity. I told them I needed to stay in London, and they needed to give me an apartment, or no deal. Germany said they’d think on it, then sent a letter saying they couldn’t. Ireland said they would, but would offer me a lower salary in return. I accepted. So, here we are.” 

Here we are indeed.... 

Hermione looked around the apartment with newfound interest, taking in the off white walls, the small living room, the even tinier kitchen, and smiled widely back at Bellatrix. “It’s perfect,” she said quietly, taking a few steps to be back in Bellatrix’s personal space. “You _’_ re perfect.” 

“You shall hear no arguments from me,” Bellatrix replied, the cocky tone of her voice doing an admittedly good job of hiding the slight tremble of her voice at the admission. It lasted only a minute before she was grinning up at Hermione, all lidded eyes and full lips. “If I say I feel worse will you offer to make me feel better?” 

“That is the... third time you’ve mentioned sex in less than an hour. Should I be concerned?” Hermione rebutted, her hands seemingly moving on their own accord to trail up Bellatrix’s sides. “You just told me you got signed to play professional Quidditch, and asked me- told me, actually, to live with you. And now you want sex?” 

Bellatrix firmly nodded, arching up to press a teasing kiss to Hermione’s mouth. 

“We have to break in the apartment somehow, do we not? I suggest we start in the kitchen.” 

Hermione’s hands couldn't find their way back to Bellatrix’s hips fast enough, despite her earlier refusal of not having sex in an empty apartment. Even if it was soon to be their apartment. Merlin, _their_ apartment. They would be living together very soon. And to make it all the more monumental, Bellatrix had been the one to initiate everything. She had accepted a lesser Quidditch contract in order to ensure her sisters remained in London, that they had a safe place to come home to every night they were not at Hogwarts. Had undoubtedly stressed herself over the thought of anything else. And then figured it out, and now was telling Hermione she would be living here with them. 

Bellatrix pressed a searing kiss to Hermione’s mouth, the shorter girl moaning into her when Hermione tightened her grip on her. It was more than enough to shoot a pulse of pleasure directly between her legs, and she was moving before her brain caught up to her actions, backing Bellatrix up until she was pressed to the counter, at which point she helped the other girl hop up onto it, Hermione’s hands moving to the back of Bellatrix’s thighs to keep her safe and steady. 

Once the girl was secure on the counter, Hermione helped to rid her of her robe, letting it fall unceremoniously onto the tiled kitchen floor, her own following not a moment later, leaving them both in their skirts and button downs with the tie. Hermione didn’t let that remain so for long, hastily and a bit roughly undoing Bellatrix’s tie as she trailed kisses from her mouth to her neck, biting down gently. 

The low moan from Bellatrix, full of need and desire, had Hermione bucking her hips into her, desperate for more contact. This wasn’t the sort of place for them to be completely naked, and they needed to return to Hogwarts before curfew, so Hermione did not bother with removing anymore of Bellatrix’s clothes, save for the girl’s underwear, which she quickly and desperately jerked down her pale thighs. 

A second later and Hermione dropped to her knees, and nearly lost her breath when she watched Bellatrix spread her legs slowly before her eyes. It took all of her self control not to drive right in, especially as she slid the girl’s skirt up towards her hips and could see the evidence of her arousal slicking her inner thighs. 

“Are you just going to stare or do something?” Bellatrix whined from above her, hands tangled into Hermione’s hair and pulling desperately. Her voice was low and raspy in a way that turned Hermione on so much.   
  
“I’d like to admire for a moment.” Even as Hermione replied, she let one of her hands trail towards the apex of Bellatrix’s thighs, lightly dragging her thumb through the soaking wetness she found there. “ _Bella_ -” 

“ _Hermione_ ,” Bellatrix barked, rolling her hips to add more pressure against Hermione’s thumb. “ _Please_.” 

That was all it took for the last of Hermione’s control to slip, and she quickly and roughly pressed her mouth against Bellatrix, her lips wrapping around the little bundle of nerves. Bellatrix bucked into her immediately, hands tightening in her hair as a string of surprised curse words slipped from the dark witch. 

Words couldn’t even begin to describe how Bellatrix tasted, how much Hermione loved to be on her knees before her, licking everything up. She could feel her own underwear quickly growing stickily wet, and slipped one of her hands under the waistband to press tight circles into her clit. She moaned against Bellatrix, her eyes snapping closed. 

“Fuck- Hermione- fuck,” Bellatrix mumbled out in a broken cry, only growing louder when Hermione unexpectedly shoved a finger inside of her. “Oh _Merlin_.” 

The tiled floor was uncomfortable against Hermione’s bare knees, the angle was odd and her wrist was cramping, but Hermione wouldn’t change a single thing, not as she she found that spongey spot inside of Bellatrix and began to repeatedly curl her fingers, her mouth never leaving her clit. 

Bellatrix’s thighs were wrapped tightly around Hermione’s head, and combined with the skirt pressed close to her face, it was more than a little hard to breathe. Somehow, that just turned Hermione on all the more, and she added a second finger to Bellatrix, scissoring them inside her and relishing in how it dragged a filthy moan from her. 

“Shit, Granger, fuck me, please-” 

Hermione really, really liked when Bellatrix begged for her. She didn’t need to be told twice before she slammed her fingers in deep to the knuckle, forcing them in as far as they'd reach before she pulled them nearly all of the way out and slammed them back in again just as rapidly. 

It was hard to focus on anything, and the movements against her own clit were becoming sloppy even as she could feel her orgasm approaching. Bellatrix kept wiggling, kept begging for more, and Hermione was more than happy to give everything she had. 

Only a few more circles against her clit and Hermione’s orgasm crashed over her, her breath coming in a silent, stunted scream against Bellatrix’s clit, her fingers stilling inside of the girl for a heartbeat of a moment, Bellatrix bucking her hips to continue the movement. 

Another minute of exhausted, wild thrusting and Bellatrix’s body tensed as well, a breathy moan escaping her as she pulled painfully on Hermione’s hair. “Fuck,” she said for the dozenth time since they began, her eyes still closed and her head resting against the wall. “C’mere.” The words were quiet, tinged with a sort of deep body tiredness as she blindly reached out to pull Hermione up and towards her. 

Bellatrix didn’t hesitate before she leaned forward to press her mouth against Hermione’s, her wet and hot tongue licking all over the vast wetness on Hermione’s lips, her chin, and part of her nose. It was terribly arousing, and Hermione couldn’t help but moan again as Bellatrix kept cleaning her up. 

“Ugh, stop,” she finally protested, forcing herself away from Bellatrix’s sinful mouth before they went at one another again. “I can already barely catch my breath.”

Despite recovering from a quick orgasm, Bellatrix eyed Hermione mockingly. “Making yourself cum while you’re on your knees will do that,” she growled. “Don’t think I didn’t notice. How naughty of you, Granger.” 

Merlin, that tone- 

Focus, Hermione. 

“Well, you didn’t seem inclined to help, so I had to take matters into my own hand.” 

That had Bellatrix’s dark eyes flashing with a challenge as she dropped down from the counter quickly, except her legs must not have been quite ready to support her weight, for she stumbled forward, and only Hermione moving to catch her kept her from tumbling to the ground. 

“You were saying?” Hermione couldn’t help but antagonize, especially not with Bellatrix pressed so tightly against her, staring up at her with those captivating eyes. “I’d say we sufficiently broke the apartment in.” She grinned down at her before she added, “I wouldn’t be opposed to breaking in all of the other rooms at a later date.” 

Bellatrix pressed a light kiss to the underside of Hermione’s jaw that had her heart fluttering. “You truly know how to win me over, dragon-rider.” She pulled away to lean against the counter, staring at Hermione for a moment before she said, “I never gave you your Christmas present.” 

The sudden change of tone and conversation topic was enough to give Hermione whiplash, but she couldn’t deny the fact that she was very interested as Bellatrix pulled one last thing from her cloak. It was small, a square box no wider than two of Hermione’s fingers, and only a little bit taller. It was wrapped in gold paper, a tiny bow stuck in the center of it. 

Interested she might be, but it still didn’t stop her from saying, “Well, you could have, if you weren’t a stupid git.”

“Is there a proper way to react when finding out your girlfriend was sent thirty years into the past to stop you from becoming a murderous Deatheater?” 

Hermione smiled widely and pressed a long kiss to Bellatrix’s mouth, not pulling away until both of them were breathless. “You called me your girlfriend.”

“Do not cry again.”

“Shut up. I’ll cry if I want to.” 

Bellatrix wiggled the small box. “Aren’t you going to open it?” 

With a gentle smile still in place, and feeling more happy and content than she had in a long while, Hermione reached out and grabbed the package. She took her time unwrapping it, if only to annoy Bellatrix that little bit more, before the paper was finally on the ground between them, the gold revealing a matte black box underneath with a small lid. Hermione eagerly pushed it up, and gasped when she saw what was nestled onto of the white pillow. 

It was a dragon. 

“It isn’t real,” Bellatrix said at the awestruck look no doubt on Hermione’s face right in that moment. “It’s just a toy charmed to act real.” 

And act real it did. The dragon was a dark green and brown, curled upon itself and sleeping soundly. When Hermione softly ran a finger down its’ spiked back, the skin plastic, it sleepily blinked one eye open at her before closing it quickly again. 

“I saw the toy in a store a while ago and erm,” Bellatrix scratched the back of her neck, looking down at the box and not making any eye contact. “Thought of you. So I... charmed it. To act real...” she finished lamely, making Hermione laugh. 

“I love it,” she said quickly, carefully setting the box on the ground as she jerked forward to wrap her arms tightly around Bellatrix’s shoulders, their bodies pressed together in the best way. “I love it so much.” 

The words, I love you so much too, nearly escaped Hermione’s mouth before she choked them back down, burying her face in Bellatrix’s neck instead. 

It wasn’t the time for that sort of confession. She hadn’t even thought much about it herself, until it hit her so quickly and powerfully as she looked at the sleeping dragon. But as thought said it, she knew the words to be true. She did love Bellatrix. More than she had ever loved anything in her life before this. 

It was as easy to love Bellatrix as it was to loathe her, Hermione realized. The same things that made her question ever wanting to acknowledge Bellatrix’s existence were the very same things that had her falling for her. How she could antagonize Hermione and defend Andromeda in the same breath, how she was so willing to throw herself to Voldemort to protect her sisters. How she would not hesitate to knock anyone off of their broom during a Quidditch match to ensure a Slytherin victory. 

She couldn’t say for sure when it happened, but somehow the annoying, mouthy girl before her had managed to weasel her way directly into Hermione’s heart and nest there, unable to be removed even under the worst of circumstances. She knew it for sure that night in the empty classroom, when Bellatrix had gone to all that work setting up the adorable picnic, and Hermione had thanked her many, many times with her mouth and hands afterwards. 

Hermione loved Bellatrix. 

Bellatrix pulled away from Hermione after a moment and watched her curiously. Her mouth was jerked up at the one corner like always, but Hermione had become an expert at reading Bellatrix after all these months, and could see the relief in her dark eyes that Hermione liked the gift. 

“This is my favorite gift I’ve ever been given.” Hermione fingered the necklace she never removed from around her throat as she said it, sending a silent apology to Andromeda that her gift had been topped. “I cannot wait to have it somewhere everyone can see it. In here, when we move in here. All of us together.”

Hermione loved Bellatrix, but now was not the time to tell her that. She would love her in a week, or a month, or in ten years. There was nothing that could end the sort of love she felt for the annoying, mouthy witch standing before her. They had all the time in the world for Hermione to tell her. 

The two of them stayed in the kitchen for a few minutes longer before Hermione pointed out they should probably be returning to Hogwarts, and Bellatrix reluctantly agreed. It wasn't until they were about to apparate away that the dark witch looked at Hermione once more, an unreadable look on her gorgeous face. 

“You should also know I’ve been secretly feeding Fatty in the Forbidden Forest this entire time and I’ve already told him he’s coming to live here with us.” 

“ _What_?” 

* * *

The clock on the wall read close to eight at night, and Hermione was barely keeping her eyes open as she read through the multitude of case files sitting on her desk. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement never slept, a fact Hermione had learned very early on during her employment at the Ministry of Magic. It had been nearly three months since she had graduated Hogwarts, and Slughorn had written her a glowing recommendation to the Ministry. His letter, combined with her grades and examination results, had drawn a lot of attention to her, with more than a few departments offering her a position within their ranks. While she had always hoped to work for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and continue her S.P.E.W. work on a grander scale, she knew what was soon to come, and knew she would be better prepared to fight in the war if she accepted the offer for the DMLE. 

The last three months had been relatively quiet where Voldemort and his Death Eaters were concerned, and quieter still for Cygnus Black. The latter had made many public appearances that the Prophet were quick to eat up, though attendant faded relatively quickly about his attack and injuries. Whether himself or someone else paid them to stop publicizing it was beyond Hermione, though she did continue to read every published article about him in case any of his daughters were mentioned.

They were never mentioned, aside from the one article published months ago about their sudden ‘disappearance’, and then a follow up article with Druella Black quoted as saying, “We are well aware of our daughters’ locations. They are on summer vacation studying for the upcoming school year and will return to Black Manor shortly’. Bellatrix’s recent signing to the Irish National Team had never been mentioned, and the subtle threat of getting Narcissa and Andromeda back had had the eldest Black daughter on edge for weeks.

But nothing had ever come of it, and the summer had moved rather easily. All four of them adjusted well enough to living with one another, and a few pointless arguments between the sisters and even more pointless arguments between Bellatrix and Hermione, everything had been smooth. Bellatrix was gone most of the day for training, as was Hermione for Ministry work.

In the beginning, neither one of them had been comfortable with the idea of leaving the youngest two Blacks on their own everyday in the heart of Wizarding London. That was rectified swiftly once Dorcas Meadowes purchased the apartment directly across from their own two weeks later, decision she had brushed off as being something she was considering for months now, but Hermione knew it was at the behest of the Order. She had never questioned it, not when she knew Dorcas would be around every day to protect Andromeda and Narcissa should they need it.

And thankfully, they hadn’t yet, and hopefully never would. They only had to last one more week before the girls returned to Hogwarts for the year, and Hermione hoped then she’d be able to breathe properly once more.

When the clock struck nine, Hermione knew she had to call it a night. She wanted at least a few hours with Bellatrix before they both fell asleep tonight, and so she quickly packed up and made her way to an apparation point. After the stomach twisting sensation of moving through the world, she appeared outside the apartment complex they had been calling home for the last three months and went upstairs.

The apartment was dark and empty, no candles lit, so she waved her wand and went in search of the others. It was too early for any of them to be asleep, and the apartment was hardly ever completely empty unless they were all out together. Hermione refused to let any sort of panic began to grow as she looked in each bedroom before going to the kitchen, where she breathed a sigh of relief at finding a piece of parchment with Andromeda’s familiar handwriting on the center.

_Bella took us to dinner. be back tonight- A_

“Worried for nothing,” Hermione laughed to herself, taking a moment to calm herself before jerking off her heels and shrugging out of her cloak. A quiet night to herself sounded nice, now that she thought about it. Or, a quiet night to herself and Fatty, who she could just see peaking out from a nest of blankets on the couch, curled in on himself and sound asleep. “Wish they would have taken you,” she grumbled and set her wand on the counter, running a hand through her hair just as there was a knock on the door.

Most likely Dorcas, checking as she did every night to ensure everyone was safe. Hermione really should do something nice for the older girl. A gift basket or a new cloak or something of the sort, just to show her appreciation of everything she did.

Hermione didn’t bother to check it was in fact Dorcas before she unlocked the door and pulled it open, and immediately stumbled backward as she tried to slam it shut quickly.

Druella Black was at her front door, one black heel kicked out to prevent the door from closing as she forced it to stay open, watching Hermione’s every move.

“I believe it is time you and I have a conversation, girl. You can either let me in, or I will burn the entire block down. The decision is yours.”


End file.
